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"LI  B  RAHY 

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OF    ILLINOIS 


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JACK   BRERETON'S 
THREE    MONTHS'  SERVICE 


BY 

maria  Mcintosh  cox 


ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  MENTE 


BOSTON 
D.     LOTHROP    COMPANY 

WASHINGTON   STREET  OPPOSITE   BROMFIELD 


Copyright,  1892. 

BY 

D.  Lothrop  Company. 


5. 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

MUSTERED    IN  . 

9 

II. 

GONE 

37 

III. 

<J 

AN    UNEXPECTED    WAT    TO    MAKE    MONEY 

IV. 

60 

«o 

TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPEE 

86 

4 

V. 
JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN           .... 

111 

VI. 

THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF   JULY,    1861  .       139 

4 


CONTENTS. 

VII. 

THINGS    NORTH    AND    SOUTH    OF    "DIXIE'S 

LINE" 168 

VIII. 

A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS  .  .       199 

IX. 

JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL     .  .      229 

X. 

CHRISTMAS    REJOICING        ....      257 


• 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"Forward,  march!"    ....    Frontis 

Jack  stood  like  a  sentry       .... 
She  pawed  madly  in  the  air  and  then  "  bolted ' 

violently  down  the  road 
"  Well,  it's  a  bargain,"  said  Tim 
"  If  you  take  it  by  force  I  cannot  help  it,"  said 

Jack 

"  Is  there  any  bad  news,   sir  ?    My  father  is 

soldier" 

Jack's  arms  were  around  her  before  these  words 

were  said       .••••• 
"  That's  for  your  mother,"  said  Michael    . 
"  Did  you  ever  hear  tell  of  them  Zouavers  ?  " 
At  the  gate  stood  six  or  eight  white-turbaned 

men        .        •        ■ 
"Look!  it's  from  my  father!  "  . 
Jack  came  running  in  white  with  fear 


23 

75 

104 

119 
159 

183 

191 
212 

219 
249 
269 


JACK     BRERETON'S 
THREE    MONTHS'  SERVICE. 


MUSTERED    IN. 

fpHE  railroad  by  which  the  travelers  came 
J-  and  went  to  and  from  Ruremont  ran 
through  a  deep  cut,  far  below  the  level  of  the 
little  town,  and  it  could  only  be  reached  by  a 
steep  flight  of  wooden  steps  leading  down  the 
high  embankment,  under  which  the  station 
house  was  sheltered. 

At  the  top  of  these  steps,  late  in  the  after- 
noon of  a  certain  April  day,  in  the  year  1861, 
stood  an  eager-looking  boy  of  about  fourteen, 
watching  the  passengers  who  were  leaving  the 
north-bound  train.  After  an  accident  by  which 
a  reckless  lad  had  lost  his  life,  some  three  or 
9 


1Q  MUSTERED    IN. 

four  years  previous,  strict  orders  had  been 
issued  forbidding  the  village  children  to  play 
about  the  station,  and  although  in  this  particu- 
lar case  the  boy  was  a  trustworthy  fellow  and 
growing  too  old  to  run  much  risk,  yet  his 
parents  required  him  to  keep  the  law,  and  at 
this  hour  and  place  he  could  be  found  on  any 
afternoon  of  the  year,  let  the  weather  be  what 
it  might.  If  you  wanted  Jack  Brereton,  his 
happy  face  was  as  sure  to  be  seen  at  the  head 
of  this  stair,  when  the  clock  struck  six,  as  that 
you  would  find  the  dial  which  told  the  hour  in 
its  place  in  the  church  spire. 

He  kept  his  place,  leaning  eagerly  forward, 
until  he  saw  his  father  on  the  platform,  and 
then  with  two  bounds  he  cleared  the  space  and 
stood  panting  beside  him.  As  there  were  few 
men  in  the  world,  and  certainly  none  in  the 
village,  with  a  happier  disposition  than  this 
father  possessed,  and  as  nowhere,  in  any  place, 
could  there  be  a  fonder  son  than  Jack,  they 
were  the  best  possible  friends  and  the  jolliest 


MUSTERED    IX.  11 

companions,  and  this  nightly  meeting  was 
usually  a  merry  one,  and  jokes  and  fun  began 
from  the  time  they  were  near  enough  to  greet 
each  other. 

To-day  both  were  grave,  and  all  Mr.  Brere- 
ton  said  was  :  "  Halloo,  old  man  !  "  and  walking 
ahead  of  Jack  he  ascended  the  steps  as  if  tired. 
At  the  top,  the  boy  took  the  bag  his  father 
carried,  and  passing  his  hand  affectionately 
through  the  strong  arm  already  bent  to  receive 
it,  they  turned  and  walked  up  the  road.  Still 
neither  spoke. 

A  buggy  drove  rapidly  up  behind  and  a 
neighbor  called  out:  "Hi,  there,  Brereton! 
stop  a  minute,"  and  not  waiting  to  actually 
overtake  them,  he  asked  eagerly :  "  What's 
the  latest  from  below?  Is  your  regiment 
ordered  out  ?  " 

"  We  are  off  to-morrow.  Everything  from 
Washington  is  as  bad  as  it  well  can  be." 

Jack's  face  paled,  his  heart  beat  fast.  His 
father    going   for  a  soldier !     He   felt  a  little 


12  MUSTERED    IN. 

giddy,  and  withdrew  his  hand  and  fell  back  a 
pace  or  two. 

"  Well,  I  am  sorry  enough,"  said  the 
questioner.     "  Does  Mrs.  Brereton  know  ?  " 

"  Not  yet." 

"  I'll  come  over  and  see  you  to-night,  and  if 
I  can  help  you  in  any  way,  or  for  that  matter, 
if  any  one  in  the  village  can  be  of  any  use  to 
you  or  your  wife,  why,  you  know  you  have 
only  to  speak."  And  now  fully  abreast  the 
man  stretched  out  his  hand  and  grasped  Mr. 
Brereton's. 

Father  and  son  walked  on,  but  at  a  slow 
pace.  With  his  arm  thrown  over  Jack's 
shoulder,  Mr.  Brereton  could  feel  the  unusual 
vibration  of  the  boy's  quick  heart.  His  hand 
rested  on  the  vigorous  young  figure  with  a 
pressure  which  was  in  itself  a  caress.  "  You 
heard  what  I  said,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father." 

"  I  can't  talk  much  about  it,  my  boy,  but 
there  is  no  choice  left  about  going,  and  this  is 


MUSTERED    IX.  13 

the  only  chance  I  shall  have  to  speak  with  you 
alone,  so  we  will  walk  slowly  and  I  will  explain 
what  you  ought  to  know  and  understand. 
Things  are  not  turning  out  as  the  Government 
and  the  Northern  people  supposed.  The  South 
is  more  in  earnest  than  we  realized  ;  they  are  a 
singularly  brave  race  of  men,  and  they  think 
themselves  in  the  right.  We  thought  this 
war  alarm  was  the  talk  of  politicians  and  un- 
scrupulous men,  but,  Jack,  it  is  the  deliberate 
act  of  the  Southern  people  as  a  body,  and  the 
struggle  which  we  supposed  would  not  last 
three  months,  is  likely  to  end  in  a  long,  bitter 
war,  and  we  are  not  ready  for  the  emergency. 
If  volunteers  do  not  go  at  once  to  the  front 
and  to  the  defense  of  Washington,  there  is  no 
doubt  about  it,  Jack,  there  will  be  no  more  a 
United  States  of  America ;  nothing  but  a 
broken  and  divided  country,  awful  confusion 
and  disaster,  for  North  and  South  together. 
To  keep  Washington,  is  a  long  step  toward 
keeping  the  Union.      Ready  or  unready,  men 


14  MUSTERED    IN. 

must  go,  and  those  of  us  who  are  drilled 
soldiers,  accustomed  to  the  use  of  arms,  and 
under  some  military  organization,  are  worth  our 
weight  in  gold  to  the  country  now.  What 
would  you  think  of  those  that  staid  at  home, 
Jack?" 

"  Yes,  father,  I  see  you  must  go."  Pride  and 
patriotism  roused  by  his  father's  words,  began 
to  bring  the  color  back  to  his  cheeks. 

"That's  right,  Jack.  I  knew  you  would 
understand.  But  to  us,  personally,  this  brings 
a  sore  trouble,  and  I  am  going  to  tell  you  the 
worst  and  depend  on  you  to  give  me  all  the 
help  you  can,  and  after  I  am  gone  to  be  your 
mother's  support  and  comfort." 

"  Yes,  father,"  answered  Jack,  under  his 
breath. 

Mr.  Brereton  looked  down  into  the  boy's 
anxious  face  and  tried  to  smile  and  meet  the 
painfully  attentive  eyes  with  his  naturally  cheer- 
ful expression,  but  the  attempt  was  not  a  signal 
success.  .« 


MUSTERED    IX.  15 

, 

"  What  makes  me  very  anxioi^r  is  lack  of 
moi%.  I  cannot  bear  to  set  voir  young  head 
aching,  my  pooi\old  boy,  but  conning  up  in  the 
car  I  decided  I  ought  tov-iell^ou  just  how 
things  are.  What  we  have  been  able  to  save 
has  been  spent  for  our  new  house  ;  I  have  only  \ 

one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  bank,  and  Mr. 
Robson,  being  angry  at  my  leaving  at  this  busy 
season  of  the  year,  will  undoubtedly  put  an- 
other man  in  my  place,  and  so  cut  off  any 
chance  of  my  leaving  your  mother  an  incomevin 
my  absence.  My  army  pay  will  be  only  thirteen 
dollars  a  month  !  At  first  I  thought  I  must 
at  once  resign  from  the  regiment,  but  at  last  it 
seemed  plain  to  me  that  cost  what  it  might  I 
must  go,  and  leave  all  to  God's  mercy." 

Mr.  Brereton  had  gone  beyond  what  he  had 
intended  to  say,  and  was  pouring  into  his  boy's 
ears  the  pent-up  pain  of  his  own  heart. 

Mr.  Robson  was  the  owner  of  a  large  hard- 
ware business,  of  which  Mr.  Brereton  was  gen- 
eral manager.     An  Englishman,  with  little  love 


16  MUSTERED    IN. 

for  the  country  and  with  a  natural  desire  to 
maintain  the  prosperity  of  a  concern  which  was 
yielding  a  large  profit,  he  resisted  violently 
the  absence  of  a  peculiarly  capable  and  valua- 
ble assistant,  just  at  a  time  when  his  services 
were  most  important.  He  had  meant  his  un- 
generous speech  as  simply  a  threat  sure  to 
conquer  Brereton  in  the  end ;  but  growing 
angry  as  he  saw  it  was  useless  to  try  to  detain 
him,  he  had  ended  by  making  it  a  positive 
point  of  issue.  Brereton  had  remained  firm, 
and  now  nothing,  except,  perhaps,  entreaties 
from  his  wife,  which  he  felt  sure  she  would 
never  utter,  could  alter  his  determination. 

"  What  will  mother  do  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

a  I  can't  tell  you,  my  son.  Half  this  month's 
salary  is  due  me,  and  that,  with  the  hundred  and 
fifty  in  bank,  may  carry  you  through  the  three 
months  ;  it's  only  three  months,  you  know,  and 
when  I  get  back  I  do  not  fear  but  that  I  shall 
find  work.  You,  Jack,  must  watch  over  every 
thing.     Do  all  my  little  odd  jobs  in  the  mornings 


MUSTERED    IX.  17 

and  evenings,  be  sure  there  is  wood  and  coal  in 
the  kitchen,  and  plenty  of  fresh  water  drawn, 
don't  neglect  the  chickens,  and  above  all  watch 
that  your  mother  does  not  stint  herself  in  food. 
She  will  be  apt  to  try  to  save  every  penny,  and 
there  is  enough  to  afford  good  food  —  remember 
that.  She  will  fear  some  need  from  sickness 
or  trouble,  but  I  expect  you  to  see  she  has 
enough  for  her  daily  support.  When  my  big 
self  is  out  of  the  way,  and  with  no  rent  to  pay, 
little  as  I  leave,  it  ought  to  keep  you  comfort- 
able, and  when  I  return,  if  God  wills,  I  am  sure 
to  find  some  paying  work  —  I  leave  a  clean  record 
behind  me,  and  I  know  my  business  thoroughly." 
Jack  walked  on  with  a  crowd  of  thoughts 
surging  in  his  distressed  mind.  Father  gone  ! 
Gone  to  war !  Some,  not  all,  soldiers  come 
back  !  He  revolted  at  the  first  suggestion  of 
this  horror  and  fled  to  another  point :  no  money 
to  come  from  that  ready,  cheerful  hand  which 
made  every  Saturday  night  a  sort  of  holiday 
time,  and  the  handing  over  to  mother  the  week's 


18  MUSTERED    IN. 

allowance  as  bright  an  event  as  if  it  were  a 
special  time  of  gift  making,  with  shining  quar- 
ters and  ten  cent  pieces  for  himself  and  the 
little  girls  —  father  gone  and  mother  and  he, 
with  the  little  ones,  left  to  their  own  resources ! 
Jack  could  not  look  up  or  find  a  word  to  say. 

"  Come,  Jack,  help  father  a  little.     You  can 
take  care  of  mother,  can't  you  ?  " 

Something  both  in  the  question  and  the  tone 
stirred  the  manliness  of  which  there  was  no  lack 
in  Jack's  stout  young  heart;  and  raising  his  head 
he  looked  his  father  frankly  in  the  eyes  :  "  I'll  do 
my  best ;  you  may  trust  me  to  do  that,  father." 
The  evening  shadows  were  gathering,  no  one 
was  near  them  and  Mr.  Brereton  stooped  and 
kissed  his  big  boy.  They  were  making  a  long 
walk  of  a  very  short  one,  but  they  still  lingered. 
"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Jack,  "  that  mother  will 
be  worried  if  we  don't  hurry.  She  was  watch- 
ing for  the  train  before  I  came  away ;  I  think 
she  must  have  been  afraid  of  bad  news  —  she 
is  not  usually  so  anxious  for  the  whistle." 


MUSTERED    IX.  19 

u  I  am  not  forgetting  her,  Jack,"  Mr.  Bre- 
reton  answered  with  a  grim  smile,  "  but  I  must, 
for  her  sake,  say  all  I  want  to,  to  you,  while  I 
have  this  last  opportunity.  You  see  you  are 
old  enough  to  understand,  and  strong  enough 
to  help,  and  I  want  to  show  you  that  I  trust 
you  entirely,  and  if  anything  should  happen  to 
me,"  his  voice  shook  a  little,  "  I  want  you  to 
comprehend  fully  why  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  go. 
I  am  not  going  because  the  regiment  is  going  ; 
nor  because  I  might  be  called  a  coward  if  I 
staid  at  home  ;  nor  because  of  any  glory  to 
be  won  ;  but  solely  because  I  have  no  choice. 
If  I  want  to  preserve  my  country  from  ruin  this 
is  a  call  that  I  ought  to  obey.  I  believe  I 
ought  to  give  up  all  I  have  to  save  the  Union 
from  dissolution  ;  position,  home,  and  if  needs 
be,  my  life  also,  and  hardest  of  all  that  I  ought 
even  to  ask  your  dear  mother  to  suffer  with 
me.  You  won't  forget  this,  Jack.  Try  to 
remember  it  just  as  I  have  told  it  to  you." 
"  I  will  never  forget  it,  father." 


20  MUSTERED    IN. 

The  whiteness  of  the  boy's  usually  merry  face 
and  the  strained  look  of  attention  in  his  eyes, 
could  be  seen  even  in  the  gathering  dusk. 

A  quick  thought  crossed  his  father's  mind  ; 
taking  a  lighter  tone  he  said,  "  I  tell  you  what 
we  will  do,  Jack.  I  have  been  mustered  into 
the  service  of  the  United  States  to-day,  and  I 
will  muster  you  into  the  service  of  Mary  Bre- 
reton  of  Ruremont,  for  three  months'  duty. 
First,  you  know  I  have  to  judge  whether  you 
are  in  good  condition  to  do  a  soldier's  duty. 
You  don't  need  close  inspection,  I  will  stand 
security  for  that:  sound  to  the  core!"  He 
brought  his  hand  down  upon  Jack's  shoulder 
with  playful  violence.  "Next  you  know  you 
must  take  an  oath  or  give  a  solemn  promise 
that  you  will  perform  your  duty  against  all 
enemies  and  obstacles.  What  say  you,  Jack  ? 
Will  you  be  mustered  in  as  a  three  months' 
volunteer  ?  " 

Jack  could   not  but  smile.     "I  would   like 
that  very  much." 


MUSTERED    IX.  21 

They  were  just  then  at  their  own  gate. 
"  Well,  stand  straight  to  show  you  are  a 
soldier,  hold  up  your  right  hand  and  repeat  after 
me." 

Jack,  a  little  smile  on  his  face  as  he  met  his 
father's  eyes,  stood  like  a  sentry  long  drilled  to 
stiff  and  unbending  erectness,  raised  his  hand 
higher  than  his  head  :  "  I  hereby  volunteer  to 
be  a  faithful  soldier  and  servant  to  Mary  Bre- 
reton  of  Kuremont,  to  defend  her  from  all  harm, 
and  to  help  and  comfort  her,  arid  labor  for  her 
with  all  my  strength  for  the  term  of  three 
months.  Everything  I  can  do  I  will  do,  so  help 
me  God.     Amen." 

Jack's  voice  followed  word  for  word  this 
suddenly  improvised  form  of  promise,  and  the 
deep  tone  of  the  elder  man  was  not  more 
earnest  than  the  boy's  clear  echo  ;  the  "  Amen  " 
came  out  as  fervently  as  if  the  fate  of  the  nation 
hung  upon  his  fidelity,  and  his  "  mustering  in  " 
was  accomplished.  A  sense  of  having  a  duty 
to    perform,   alike  solemn   and  beautiful,    and 


MUSTERED    IX. 


akin  to  the  offering  Lis  father  had  made  to  his 
country,  filled  the  boy's  heart  with  a  strange 
pride  ;  his  vow  seemed  to  have  already  changed 
his  relations  to  everything. 

A  clear  nervous  voice  called  from  the  house- 
door  :  "  John,  is  that  you  ?  Do  come  ;  I  thought 
something  had  happened." 

"  All  right,  Molly,"  was  the  cheery  response  ; 
"  we  are  coming."  But  despite  his  efforts  to 
he  brave,  notwithstanding  the  certainty  that  he 
was  doing  right,  John  Brereton's  heart  sank  at 
wThat  he  had  to  tell  this  sweet  wife  of  his,  who 
wearied  if  he  were  an  hour  late  at  his  work, 
who  had  no  life  apart  from  him. 

"  Come,  Jack,"  he  said,  "  double  quick,"  and 
falling  into  the  running  pace  of  a  soldier,  which 
they  had  often  practiced  together  for  fun,  they 
ran  forward  and  reached  the  door  of  the  pretty 
cottage  out  of  breath.  It  was  open,  and  on  the 
threshold  stood  Jack's  mother,  with  her  baby 
girl  in  her  arms. 

She  was  such  a  pretty  mother,  dainty  in  her 


JACK    STOOD    LIKE   A    SKNTKY. 


MUSTERED    IX.  25 

fresh  blue  and  white  gingham  dress,  her  soft 
brown  hair  rippling  away  from  her  broad  white 
forehead.  The  two  Johns  ran  on  until  they 
actually  touched  her,  and  her  husband  tried  to 
meet  her  with  a  show  of  his  ordinary  jollity. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,"  she  said,  «  I 
had  grown  anxious;  you  are  more  than  twenty 
minutes  late.  Is  there  any  war  news,  John  ? 
Is  there  any  danger  of  the  National  Guard 
being  called  out  ?  " 

John,  senior,  put  his  arm  about  her  and 
gently  turned  her  round  to  enter  the  house, 
and  did  not  answer.  But  she  was  not  to  be 
put  off.     "  John,  is  your  regiment  going  ?" 

They  were  just  standing  at  the  door  of  the 
cosey  dining-room,  and  the  bright  light  from 
the  hanging  lamp  over  the  inviting  tea  table 
shone  full  in  their  faces.  He  bent  down  and 
kissed  her,  saying  nothing.  Her  face  grew 
deadly  white:  "John,  are  you  going?"  He 
silently  kissed  her  again.  Poor  Jack  saw  her 
sway  backward    slightly  and  her  hold  on  the 


2C)  MUSTERED    IN. 

baby  relax.  Her  husband  caught  the  little  one 
quickly  and  said  in  a  tone  of  distress,  "  Don't, 
Mary ;  don't,  dear,  I  cannot  bear  it."  She 
turned  her  face  against  his  breast ;  he  knew 
she  was  gathering  her  strength.  A  gentle 
motion  of  the  baby  called  his  attention  to  Jack, 
who  was  holding  out  his  arms  to  take  her. 

"  Let  me  take  Flossy,  father,"  he  said ;  and 
lifting  her  higher  than  his  head  to  make  her 
laugh,  he  took  her  into  the  kitchen  and  sat 
down  beside  the  window  where  the  cat  lay 
asleep  on  the  ledge.  Poor  Jack!  he  felt  his 
service  had  begun. 

The  side  door  opened  and  a  little  girl  about 
seven  years  old  came  running  in.  "  Mamma, 
mamma!"  she  called,"  where'spapa?  it  is  ever 
so  late." 

u  Mother  is  in  the  dining-room,  Dolly,  and 
father  too.     Stay  here  with  me  until  she  calls." 

"  I  want  to  see  papa,"  persisted  the  child ; 
"  and  I  am  hungry,  too." 

"Yes,  Dolly,  I    suppose  you    are,  but   just 


MUSTERED    IS.  27 


wait  a  minute.  We  will  be. called  before  long. 
See  puss  —  she  has  gone  to  sleep  with  her  ball 
between  her  paws."  Dolly's  reluctant  attention 
was  slowly  given  to  the  cat,  but  to  Jack's  relief 
his  mother  appeared  and  began  to  take  the 
warm  dishes,  which  were  waiting  by  the  fire, 
into  the  dining-room.  Dolly  ran  after  her  and 
mounted  quickly  to  her  father's  knee,  while  Jack 
installed  the  baby  in  her  usual  chair-of -state  at 
meal  times,  which  was  her  wagon  drawn  up 
close  beside  the  table,  where  she  could  safely 
rest  among  her  pillows,  under  her  mother's 
eye. 

Kadiant  cleanliness,  delicate  taste  and  delight- 
ful comfort  surrounded  them  as  they  gathered 
about  the  tempting  table.  Many  a  wealthy 
home  would  have  suffered  by  comparison  ;  yet, 
except  for  the  weekly  aid  of  a  charwoman,  and 
for  the  loving  forethought  of  her  husband,  the 
whole  result  was  won  by  the  little  wife's  own 
hands. 

Such  good  times  as  they  always  had  at  this 


28 


MUSTERED    I\. 


evening  meal  — such  happy  talks,  and  when 
the  meal  was  ended,  such  a  pretty  picture  as 

they  made,  while  with  upturned  sleeves  and 
many  a  graceful  turn  of  her  white  arms  and 
quick  fingers,  the  dainty  housewife  washed  her 
pretty  china  and  glass,  with  pleasant  pride  in 
her  possessions,  her  husband  often  reading  from 
the  evening  paper  scraps  of  the  daily  news, 
though  not  too  absorbed  to  admire  her  dexterous 
touch  as  she  set  all  in  order,  before  carrying 
her  little  girls  to  bed.  Dolly  had  also  her 
small  share  in  making  everything  pleasant  at 
this  "  comfort-time,"  at  the  close  of  the  day, 
and  became  an  ingenious  nurse  to  imperious 
Baby  Floss.  When  rolling  the  wagon,  and 
shaking  rattles  did  no  good,  she  would  some- 
times lay  her  own  head  on  baby's  pillow  and 
let  the  chubby  fingers  do  their  will  with  her 
long  curls. 

To-night  no  merry  chat  made  the  repast 
cheerful,  words  came  slowly,  little  was  eaten, 
no  conversation  was  attempted  except  by  the 


MUSTERED    IX. 


29 


father  and  son.  When  the  discouraging  at- 
tempt at  a  meal  was  over,  to  his  mother's  great 
surprise  Jack  said  :  "  Mammy  dear,  if  you 
would  trust  me  to  get  these  things  out  of  the 
way,  I  believe  I  could  do  it  without  breaking 
anything,  and  then  you  and  father  could  take 
Floss  upstairs  and  have  more  time  to  talk." 

«  I  am  afraid  you  could  not  manage  it,  Jack," 
Mrs.  Brereton  answered  doubtfully,  yet  with  a 
longing  in  her  heart  to  ^gain  the  precious  time. 
«  Just  let  me  try,"  he  said  coaxingly  ;  «  I 
will  leave  what  I  don't  know  how  to  manage 
on  the  kitchen  table." 

His  father  came  behind  him  and  laying  his 
hands  upon  his  shoulders  conveyed  his  appro- 
bation by  his  loving  touch,  and  Jack,  leaning 
for  half  a  minute  against  his  father's  broad 
strong  chest,  threw  back  his  head,  looked  up, 
and  tried  to  smile,  but  their  eyes  said  too 
much  to  each  other  and  both  soldiers  felt  their 
courage  failing  fast.  Hastily  turning  away 
and  leaving  him,  Mr.  Brereton  lifted  Dolly  in 


30 


MUSTERED    IX. 


bis  arms  and  said  :  «  Come,  Molly,  let  us  see 
how  much  of  a  housekeeper  Jack  is ;  bring 
Baby  and  we  will  go  upstairs." 

It  was  not  long  before  Dolly's  sleepy  head 
was  safe  upon  her  pillow  and  then  in  the  half- 
lighted  room,  the  mother  gathered  little  Flossy 
close  to  her  breast  and  while  she  rocked  her  to 
sleep,  she  chanted  to  a  drowsy  tune  what  she 
wanted  to  say  to  her  husband.  This  was  a 
habit  of  long  standing,  for  the  words  mattered 
not  to  Baby,  so  long  as  she  heard  the  tune  she 
had  listened  to  since  first  she  knew  anything. 
With  nods  and  gestures  the  father  answered 
as  was  his  wont.  Ah  !  how  many  laughing 
hours  they  had  spent  thus.  To-night  to  the 
briefest  questions,  two  or  three  grave  inclina- 
tions of  his  head  gave  answer. 

"How  long  will  you  be  gone?"  sang  the  sad 
chant.     Three  lifted  fingers  responded. 

"  Do  you  leave  New  York  to-morrow  ?  " 

He  nodded  "  yes." 

Soon  Flossy's  ears  were  sealed  by  sleep  and 


MUSTERED    IN.  31 

then  they  were  free  to  make  what  use    they 
might  of  this  last  evening. 

All  was  made  plain  ;  Mr.  Robson's  angry  dis- 
missal, the  seanty  nature  of  their  remaining  re- 
sources, the  reasons  why  he  must  go.  Mrs. 
Brereton  accepted  all  with  full  trust  in  his 
judgment,  and  no  dissenting  word  marred  the 
tender  peace  of  that  never-to-be-forgotten 
night.  We  will  leave  them  together,  and  go 
and  see  how  Jack  contrived  to  perform  his 
new  duties. 

It  was  not  wholly  new  work  ;  he  had  always 
been  ready  to  "  help  mother,"  and  had  seen  his 
father,  who  was  his  ideal  of  a  manly  man,  ever 
ready  to  lighten  household  cares,  so  he  pro- 
ceeded very  systematically  and  except  for  one 
alarming  moment  wThen  he  thought  he  was  go- 
ing to  spill  all  the  milk  in  the  pitcher,  he  had 
no  mishaps.  He  tried  to  wmistle  and  was  not 
as  quiet  as  he  might  have  been,  for  noise  took 
away  the  queer  sensation  he  had  of  being  in 
some  way,  in  a  bad,  unending  dream. 


32  MUSTERED    IN. 

J n  an  hour  the  dining-room  looked  very  or- 
derly ;  the  kitchen  it  is  true  showed  signs  of 
being  used  as  an  overflow  and  did  not  bear  the 
imprint  of  Mrs.  Brereton's  dainty  tidiness,  but 
Jack  felt  he  had  done  his  best,  and  tried  next  to 
remember  all  his  father's  duties.  The  cellar 
was  locked,  the  water  pails  filled,  the  coal  and 
wood  brought  up  for  the  morning.  When 
Jack  could  think  of  nothing  more  he  sat  down 
in  his  mother's  rocking-chair  and  tried  to  con- 
sider the  future.  To  say  the  strict  truth  his 
heart  and  courage  failed  at  the  dark  path  he 
saw  before  him  and  when  by  and  by  his  father 
came  downstairs,  he  started  at  the  sound  of 
his  footsteps  as  if  ashamed  of  his  thoughts. 

There  was  an  expression  of  lofty  courage  in 
Mr.  Brereton's  face  which  was  a  lesson  in 
itself  ;  Jack  felt  its  influence  immediately. 

He  stepped  quickly  into  the  kitchen,  and 
came  back  smiling  :  « Well  done,  Private 
Brereton,  you  have  begun  finely!  Marching 
soldier  and  Home  Guard  both  will  have  enough 


MUSTERED    IN. 


33 


to  do,  I  fancy  ;  but  it  makes  me  more  com- 
fortable to  see  how  you  take  hold  of  your 
duties.  Your  mother  says  I  may  take  you  to 
New  York  with  me  to-morrow  and  you  can  see 
the  regiment  begin  the  march.  It  will  be 
something  for  you  to  remember." 
"  O,  father  !  can  I  really  go?  " 
"  I  see  no  reason  why  not.  Mr.  Paxson  told 
me  as  we  came  up  in  the  cars  that  he  would 
come  to  the  armory  to  see  us  off  and  you 
could  come  home  with  him." 

"But  mother?  Do  you  think  we  could 
leave  her  alone  ?  It  will  be  awfully  hard  for 
her  after  you  are  gone.  I  guess  I  better  not 
go,  daddy." 

"  It  was  her  proposition,  Jack.  I  will  go 
and  ask  Mrs.  Paxson  to  come  and  spend  the  day. 
We  both  wish  you  to  go,  for  although  what  is 
being  done  now  does  not  seem  wonderful,  be- 
cause we  ourselves  are  the  actors,  yet  some 
day  histories  will  be  written  and  tell  of  the 
marching  of  the  first  volunteers,  and    you  can 


34  MUSTERED    IN. 

Bay,  '  I  saw  them  go,  and  my  father  was  among 
them.' " 

The  man's  tall  figure  looked  yet  taller  and 
his  face  was  splendid  with  heroic  enthusiasm. 
It  did  Jack  a  world  of  good  to  see  and  hear 
him;  he  was  beginning  to  be  j^roud  that  his 
father  was  a  soldier. 

"  We  must  be  up  early,  so  you  best  go  to 
bed  ;  kiss  mother  and  hurry  off.  I  wrill  see 
you  again  before  you  are  asleep  ;  I  shall  have 
to  sit  up  late  to  write." 

Jack  found  his  mother  selecting  some  under- 
clothes and  making  a  little  pile  of  needful 
things  ready  for  packing.  "  Thank  you,  Jack," 
she  said,  "  I  had  a  nice  time  to  talk  with 
father.  He  told  you  you  could  go  to  New 
York  with  him  to-morrow  ?  " 

Jack  tried  to  take  his  mother's  quiet  tone, 
but  he  could  not  restrain  himself  as  he  looked 
at  the  scanty  collection  of  absolute  necessities 
which  was  all  a  soldier  could  allow  himself, 
and  he  iiung  his  young  arms  around  her  and 


MUSTERED    IN".  35 

almost  sobbing,  said  :  "  O,  mother !  how  can 
we  let  father  go  ?  " 

For  a  moment  she  lost  the  reins  of  her  self- 
control,  but  in  a  breath  again  had  them.  "  We 
are  not  only  going  to  let  him  go,  Jack,  but 
make  it  as  easy  as  we  can  for  him,  and  not  dis- 
tress him  with  our  tears.  You  must  tell  me 
just  how  he  looks  in  his  uniform  and  watch 
everything  and  listen  to  everything,  so  I  can 
understand  just  how  it  all  was,  and  then  we 
will  try  to  grow  and  be  as  brave  as  he  is." 

"Yes,  mother,"  said  Jack,  ashamed  of  his 
outburst. 

u  Xow  go  and  get  all  the  sleep  you  can. 
Good-night."  Afraid  of  weakening  him,  she 
let  him  go  without  an  added  kiss. 

Just  as  he  knelt,  Jack  heard  his  father  come 
into  his  little  room  and  kneel  down  beside  him. 
Xeither  made  a  sound,  but  when  the  lad's  short 
prayer  was  ended,  his  father  knelt  on  for  a 
moment  longer  and  then  he  took  him  in  his 
arms,  as  he  used  to  do  when  Jack  was  a  little 


30  MUSTERED    IN. 

fellow,  and  kissed  him,  and  said :  "  Every  night, 
Jack,  you  will  ask  God  to  take  care  of  your 
soldier-father  and  I  will  ask  Him  to  bless  my 
soldier-boy,  and  never  will  we  be  afraid  of 
anything  but  of  not  doing  our  duty." 

For  many  a  long,  hard  day  afterward,  Jack 
took  these  words  as  his  "  fighting  orders." 


II. 


GONE. 


AXLY  Floss  and  Dolly  slept  much  that  night. 
"  Jack  looked  with  loving  scrutiny  at  his 
parents  and  he  doubted  if  they  had  tried  to  go 
to  bed  at  all.  His  mother's  face  was  white,  and 
greatly  changed  ;  his  father  looked  perceptibly 
older  and  had  deep  lines  around  his  pleasant 
brown  eyes. 

No  disorder  marred  his  mother's  always  neat 
dress  and  her  pretty  hair  was  smooth  and  glossy 
as  usual,  but  there  was  something  hitherto  wholly 
unknown  to  him  in  her  strange  expression. 

It  seemed  strange  and  even  incongruous  to 
Jack's  excited  perceptions  that  the  house  and 
everything  in  it  looked  as  it  always  did  and 
that  breakfast  had  to  be  prepared  as  usual.  It 
almost  seemed  strange  that  the  sun  shone  and 
37 


38  GONE. 

the  bluebirds   sang,  "  when   father  was  going 
away  to  the  war." 

Mrs.  Brereton  said  little,  but  moved  quickly 
about,  brought  down  to  the  dining-room  the 
small  bag  which  held  all  her  soldier  would  be 
allowed  to  carry,  and  handled  over  and  over 
again  everything  he  was  to  wear  that  day,  as 
if  to  keep  doing  some  last  thing  for  his  com- 
fort. Mr.  Brereton  returned  from  his  brief 
farewell  visits  to  his  nearest  neighbors;  he 
tried  to  eat  his  breakfast;  he  made  what 
seemed  an  aimless  visit  to  the  chicken-house 
and  brought  in  two  or  three  fresh  eggs,  and 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  convince  himself  that 
it  could  not  be  true  that  in  half  an  hour  he 
was  to  bring  all  his  wonted  habits  to  an  end, 
and  at  last  without  a  word  kissed  the  little 
girls,  gave  Jack  his  bag  and  made  a  gesture 
toward  the  gate,  which  the  boy  understood, 
and  then  with  a  pain  no  words  can  measure  he 
took  his  speechless  wife  in  his  arms,  kissed  her 
brave,  tearless  face  and  without  looking  back, 


GONE.  39 

ran  rapidly  after  his  boy.  Jack,  facing  the 
house,  could  see  his  mother  quickly  shut  the 
door,  and  something  he  could  not  have  ex- 
plained, kept  him  from  looking  at  his  father's 
face  until  after  they  were  seated  in  the  car. 

As  his  uniform  was  at  the  armory  in  town 
and  he  wore  no  outward  sign  of  being  a  soldier, 
but  few  saw  anything  peculiar  about  him,  ex- 
cept that  he  looked  ill  and  stern.  Farther 
down  the  road  the  newsboys  came  in  with 
the  morning  papers  and  the  excitement  they 
brought,  with  all  the  details  of  alarm  and  skir- 
mish, of  mustering  in  of  men  and  hurrying  to 
the  front,  gave  great  relief  to  his  half-stupefied 
mind.  In  the  stillness  of  the  fresh  April  morn- 
ing, coming  out  of  his  orderly  home,  it  had  all 
seemed  like  some  horrid  spell  which  was  stifling 
him ;  this  first  contact  with  the  outside  world 
which  at  this  time  and  in  that  place,  seemed 
to  have  but  one  reality,  one  thought,  one  pur- 
pose —  the  entering  into  war  —  took  away  the 
wretched  sense  of   individual  misfortune   and 


40  GONE. 

made  him  again  one  of  the  great  multitude  of 
patriots. 

No  other  topic  was  discussed,  no  other  events 
claimed  attention,  and  as  their  short  journey  to 
New  York  drew  near  its  end,  acquaintances 
and  friends  came  through  the  train  to  bid  Mr. 
Brereton  good-by.  The  morning  papers  had 
announced  the  departure  of  his  regiment  and 
he  was  almost  overwhelmed  by  the  warm 
and  heartfelt  words  and  the  silent  but  equally 
expressive  hand-grasps  of  his  friends,  as  they 
each  bade  him  farewell.  Jack's  eyes  shone 
with  excitement  and  he  drank  in  every  syllable 
of  cordial  good- will,  and  grew  very  proud  as 
he   saw   his  father's   evident  popularity. 

"  Your  boy,  Brereton  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  my  only  boy." 

"Want  to  go  too?" 

To  his  father's   surprise,  Jack   replied  with 
unmistakable  emphasis :  "  Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  maybe  they  will  take  you  into  the 
drum  corps,"  said  the  gentleman,  smiling. 


GONE.  41 

"  He  is  mustered  in  as  a  Home  Guard,"  said 
Mr.  Brereton,  laying  his  hand  on  Jack's  shoul- 
der ;  "  he  will  be  the  only  man  at  home  until  I 
get  back.     His  duty  will  not  be  a  light  one." 

The  gentleman's  smile  faded  as  Mr  Brere- 
ton said  this,  though  he  had  answered  in  a  gay 
tone  :  "  Keep  a  sharp  lookout,  my  lad,  and  if 
you  need  reinforcements  send  for  me."  They 
all  laughed  a  little  as  he  said  this  and  shook 
hands  with  Jack  at  parting,  but  there  was 
something  so  sincere  and  cordial  in  his  tone 
and  face,  that  as  they  left  the  car,  the  boy 
asked  his  father  who  the  gentleman  was. 

"Why,  I  thought  you  knew  him,  Jack;  that's 
Mr.  Christopher  Roberts,  a  famous  lawyer  from 
Glenville,  and  if  any  trouble  comes,  you  may 
take  him  at  his  word  and  ask  his  advice  with- 
out hesitation.  He  is  an  old  friend,  a  true  one. 
Don't  forget  the  name,  Christopher  Roberts." 

"  I'll  remember.  I  never  saw  any  one  with 
such  a  nice  face  ;  he  made  me  think  of  you." 

Their  first  visit  in  the  city  was  to  Mr.  Rob- 


42  GONE. 

son's  office,  where  Brereton  drew  his  half- 
month's  salary,  put  the  money  in  an  envelope 
and  pinned  it  in  Jack's  vest  pocket.  Mr.  Rob- 
son  was  at  first  cold  and  even  rough  in  lan- 
guage and  manner,  but  when  he  turned  to  bid 
adi  u  the  selfishness  died  in  the  old  man's  heart 
and  he  spoke  with  real  regret :  "  Come  back 
safe,  Brereton,  and  come  back  here  ;  we  can't 
give  you  up,  even  if  you  are  such  a  fool  as  to 
go  off  in  this  mad  way.  Remember,  I  did  my 
best  to  dissuade  you." 

Then  they  went  to  the  armory,  and  there 
Jack  almost  forgot  to  be  sorry  and  shared  the 
excitement  and  enthusiasm  with  which  he  was 
surrounded. 

]>rereton  was  a  private  in  Company  A,  and 
going  directly  to  his  company  room,  he  changed 
his  citizen's  dress  for  his  uniform,  transferred 
the  contents  of  his  little  bag  to  his  knapsack, 
made  a  great  parcel  of  what  he  had  to  leave 
behind,  which  he  gave  into  Jack's  care,  and 
was  ready  for  what  might  come. 


GOXE. 


4:; 


Every  moment  brought  something  of  fresh 
interest  By  companies  the  men  were  provided 
with  blankets,  canteens  and  cartridge  belts  and 
each  received  a  tin  cup  and  plate.  When  fully 
dressed  and  equipped,  Jack  hardly  knew  his 
father:  the  man  of  business  was  gone  and  he 
looked  a  soldier  every  inch. 

By  and  by  the  time  of  departure  drew  near 
and  Mr.  Paxson  made  his  appearance  but  passed 
his  friend  without  recognizing  him  among  the 
hundreds  of  uniformed  men.  Jack  had  to  call 
to  him  before  he  could  see  them.  Then  there 
came  a  wrench  hard  and  brief,  the  boy  drew 
back  with  Mr.  Paxson,  his  father  fell  into  place 
in  the  ranks  of  his  company,  and  they  were 
parted  from  each  other. 

The  drums  beat  "  the  assembly,''  the  vaulted 
roof  echoed,  the  windows  rattled  and  reverber- 
ated, the  "markers"  set  the  alignment.  "For- 
ward, march  P  and  «  Company  A  n  took  its  place 
of  honor,  on  the  right  of  the  line,  and  Jack's 
father  was  beyond  recall. 


44 


GONE. 


Still  the  drums  thrilled  the  boy's  heart,  and 
his  eyes,  though  dim,  shed  no  tears,  and  though 
his  throat  ached  and  swelled  with  emotion,  no 
sob  escaped  his  lips,  and  his  young  feet  kept 
the  rhythm  of  the  music,  as  his  father's  did. 

The  adjutant  presented  the  regiment  to  the 
colonel ;  the  band  struck  up  "  The  Girl  I  Left 
Behind  Me  " ;  the  colonel's  strong  voice  rose 
above  all  the  din :  "  Battalion,  right  face  !  for- 
ward, march !  "  and  the  regiment  filed  out  into 
the  wide  street,  where  a  dense  crowd  hailed  them 
with  wild  cheers  and  waving  handkerchiefs. 

"By  companies  into  line  ;  march ! "  rang  out 
from  the  head  of  the  column,  and  like  a  many- 
voiced  echo  the  words  came  from  each  suc- 
ceeding captain  in  their  order  of  advance,  and 
with  a  swinging  stride  they  passed  rapidly  out 
of  sight  down  the  great  thoroughfare,  a  strong, 
untried,  yet  wholly  trustworthy  body  of  brave 
men,  a  fit  offering  to  a  country  whose  bulwark 
is  her  free  sons. 

The    standing  crowd  followed  on    as   they 


GONE. 


45 


could,  and  Jack,  carrying  his  big  parcel  and  bis 
father's  bag,  darted  off  unmindful  of  Mr.  Pax- 
son,  and  that  very  staid  and  quiet  gentleman 
had  to  run  as  he  had  not  done  for  many  a 
year,  to  keep  him  in  sight.  On  reaching  Broad- 
way, new  crowds  stopped  the  way,  the  police 
pressing  them  back  to  give  the  regiment  space 
to  move  freely,  the  baggage  wagons  closed  in 
the  rear,  and  there  was  nobbing  for  Jack  to  see 
but  the  points  of  bayonets  glittering  in  the  sun, 
and  nothing  to  hear  but  the  beat  of  drums  and 
notes  of  music  made  unmeaning  by  distance 
and  drowned  by  the  cheers  of  the  people  and 
the  roll  of  the  wagons. 

Then  he  recalled  poor  Mr.  Paxson  and  was 
delighted  to  see  him  not  far  off. 

Mr.  Paxson  had  too  true  an  understanding 
of  the  case,  was  too  glad  to  have  only  eager 
excitement  instead  of  tears  and  despair  to  en- 
counter, to  feel  at  all  annoyed.  He  insisted 
upon  taking  Jack's  bag  and  left  him  the  big 
bundle  of  his  father's  clothes,  which  he  clung 


46  GONE. 

to  and  which  he  would  have  insisted  upon  car- 
rying were  it  twice  as  heavy,  and  they  turned 
their  faces  homeward. 

Slowly  the  fire  died  out  of  the  boy's  eyes, 
the  color  from  his  cheeks ;  the  strange  rattling 
of  the  drums  within  the  armory  still  reverber- 
ated in  his  ears,  but  every  passing  moment 
robbed  him  of  enthusiasm  and  made  it  more 
plain  that  his  father  had  gone,  and  that  he  was 
going  back  to  a  sad  and  lonely  home. 

Mr.  Paxson  tried  to  talk  cheerfully  and 
bought  him  the  evening  papers,  but  both  soon 
fell  into  absorbing  thoughts  and  said  little.  A 
gentleman  passing  through  the  car,  who  did 
not  know  Jack,  stopped  at  their  seat :  "  Did 
you  see  the  boys  off  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  am  just  now  returning  from  the 
armory.  They  started  out  in  splendid  form; 
I  declare,  I  felt  like  shouldering  a  musket  and 
going  myself !  " 

a  Any  of  your  own  people  in  the  regiment?  " 

"  Only  my  neighbor,  John   Brereton,  but  we 


GONE. 


47 


are  so  fond  of  him  in  Ruremont,  that  it  seems 
as  if  a  member  had  been  taken  from  every 
family  in  the  village." 

"Oh!  he  is  that  bright  handsome  fellow  with 
such  a  hearty,  contagious  laugh.  I  don't  won- 
der !  It  is  a  pretty  severe  affair,  this  three 
months'  service,  on  some  of  those  young  men ; 
in  some  cases  they  lose  their  positions  by  it. 
Brereton  is  one  of  Robson's  head  men,  is  he 

not?" 

«  He  was  his  general  manager." 

"Was,  you  say;  would  they  not  give  him 
leave  of  absence?" 

"  Xo ;  they  made  it  a  point  of  issue,  and  his 
place  is  gone." 

«  That's  hard,  and  he  is  a  married  man  too. 
Are  his  family  provided  for  ?  I  remember  once 
seeing  a  very  pretty  woman  with  him  who  was 
evidently  his  wife.    Has  she  anything  to  depend 


upon  ?  " 


"  This  is  Brereton's  only  son,"  said  Mr.  Pax- 
son,  anxious  as  to  the  effect  on  Jack  of  what 


48 


GONE. 


might  next  be  said.     «  This  is  Mr.  Thornton  of 
Thornhill,  Jack." 

"You  must  excuse  me,  my  boy,  for  speaking 
so  freely  of  your  father  and  mother,  but  of 
course  I  did  not  know  who  you  were.  You 
look  as  if  my  last  question  was  answered ;  she 
has  a  good  boy  to  depend  upon." 

Jack  blushed,  but  managed  to  say  he  would 
do  his  best,  and  that  his  father  would  be  back 
in  July. 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Mr.  Thornton,  "with  all 
my  heart !  "  And  then  in  a  lower  voice,  to 
Mr.  Paxson  :  "  If  there  is  need  of  help,  let  me 
know." 

Jack  felt  puzzled  over  various  things  he  had 
heard  during  the  day.  That  people  were  sorry 
for  him  was  quite  plain  —  that  he  was  not  sur- 
prised at;  but  a  word  here  and  there,  not  in- 
tended for  him,  had  reached  his  ears  and  he 
clearly  made  out  they  feared  more  for  him  than 
he  did  for  himself. 

Almost   as  Mr.   Thornton   ceased   speaking, 


GONE.  49 

they  were  at  Ruremont  Station,  and  Mr.  Pax- 
son  told  Jack  that  as  Mrs.  Paxson  was  still  with 
his  mother  he  would  walk  home  with  him. 

As  they  drew  near  the  house  the  boy  grew 
more  and  more  nervous  and  actually  dreaded 
to  meet  his  mother.  Would  she  wear  that 
strange,  white  look  that  had  made  her  seem  so 
unnatural  in  the  morning?  Would  she  cry 
when  she  saw  him?  As  to  seeing  her  first, 
with  other  persons  about  them,  he  could  not 
do  it.  Leaving  Mr.  Paxson  to  go  to  the  front 
door  he  ran  around  to  the  back  of  the  house 
and  made  his  way  to  the  kitchen. 

When  he  found  himself  in  the  clean,  bright 
room,  where  the  kettle  sung  cheerily  on  the 
shining  stove,  he  stood  still,  wondering  why  it 
had  been  so  impossible  to  go  in  with  Mr.  Pax- 
son, yet  perversely  unwilling  to  join  them  in 
the  next  room  where  he  could  plainly  hear 
their  voices.  But  in  a  very  few  moments,  Mrs. 
Paxson  with  her  bonnet  on,  having  been  watch- 
ing for  her  husband,  they  left ;  and  almost  im- 


50 


GONE. 


mediately  Jack  heard  his  mother's  light  foot- 
steps coming.  Instinctively  he  laid  the  bundle 
of  his  father's  clothes  a  little  out  of  sight  and 
braced  himself  to  be  brave. 

"  Well,  mother,"  he  said,  "here  I  am."  He 
eould  not  see  his  own  white  cheeks,  nor  guess 
how  little  his  effort  concealed  his  agitation. 

His  mother  read  him  like  an  open  book  and 
did  not  come  too  near  him,  nor  kiss  him.  "  Are 
you  all  right,  dear?  Have  you  had  anything 
to  eat?  Better  run  up  and  get  off  your  best 
clothes  before  tea,  for  you  have  several  things 
to  do  outside." 

They  understood  each  other  perfectly,  these 
two,  and  he  took  up  his  bundle  unquestioned, 
and  was  off  for  his  room  on  the  instant.  He 
did  not  lose  many  minutes  in  making  the  need- 
ful change,  and  was  down  again  before  his 
mother  expected  him. 

When  he  came  back,  Flossy  was  tied  in  a 
chair  by  the  fire  and  Dolly  was  amusing  her. 
The  cloth  was  laid  upon  a  table  in  the  kitchen 


GONE. 


51 


and  Mrs.  Brereton  was  bringing  out  some  china 
from  the  dining-room.  "  We  will  take  tea  in 
here  to-night,  Jack ;  see  if  you  can  find  some 
eggs  in  the  hen-house ;  the  water  is  boiling." 

What  a  comfortable  thought  for  them  both, 
to  escape  that  dining-room  which  was  always 
made  to  shine  again  for  his  father,  and  to  get 
away  from  those  front  windows  from  which  the 
children  always  had  watched  so  eagerly  for  his 
coming.  Jack's  courage  was  reassured  —  his 
mother  and  he  could  manage. 

The  eggs  were  found,  the  chickens  fed,  the 
outhouses  locked;  Jack  peeped  in  at  the  kitchen 
door.  Yes,  he  would  have  time !  He  ran 
swiftly  down  to  the  outer  gate  and  stood  for  a 
minute  where  he  had  been  "  mustered  in  "  last 
night.  From  this  time  forth  he  never  missed 
this  brief  visit  for  many  a  night  to  come  :  it 
was  his  "  good-night "  to  his  father,  his  report 
to  his  commanding  officer. 

Back  he  came,  and  this  time  he  wore  a  natu- 
ral expression  on  his  face  and  had  some  color 

UNlVtMrv  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


52  GONE. 

in  his  round  cheeks.  lie  had  eaten  nothing 
but  a  biscuit  since  his  light  breakfast  in  the 
morning,  for  although  lunch  had  been  offered 
in  the  armory,  he  could  not  eat,  and  now  the 
hunger  of  a  growing  boy  asserted  itself  despite 
his  sorrow  and  gave  zest  to  the  plain  meal 
which  Jack  noticed  consisted  only  of  barely 
necessary  food. 

It  was  sadly  easy  to  put  away  the  few  things 
they  had  used,  for  ordinarily  Mrs.  Brereton 
made  the  table  as  bright  and  pretty  as  possible, 
and  spared  no  pains  to  give  variety  and  deli- 
cacy to  her  husband's  meals,  nor  grudged  the 
greatly  added  labor  which  all  the  tempting 
prettiness  involved  for  her. 

Jack  bustled  about  helping,  and  then  the  lit- 
tle girls  were  carried  upstairs  and  put  to  sleep 
and  he  took  that  time  to  see  that  everything 
was  safe  for  night  and  ready  for  morning. 
Then  he  went  into  the  cosey  parlor  and  sat  down 
before  the  small  fire,  which  was  pleasant  in  the 
chilly  April  evening  and  waited  for  his  mother. 


GOXE.  53 

It  seemed  longer  than  usual  before  the  chil- 
dren slept,  but  when  they  were  really  quiet 
and  safe,  his  mother  came  gently  down  the 
stairs  and  drawing  a  chair  beside  him,  said 
softly :  "  Xow,  tell  me  what  you  saw  and  what 
father  said." 

Once  launched  on  the  story  of  his  day,  his 
spirit  kindled  with  the  remembrance  and  he 
told  it  well,  and  his  mother's  w^arm  heart  caught 
the  fire  of  enthusiasm  which  had  roused  him  so 
thoroughly.  For  the  first  time  a  gleam  of  pride 
added  strength  to  her  patient  sense  of  duty, 
and  courage  drawn  from  her  boy's  glowing 
face  and  words,  made  her  feel  ready  to  give 
her  costly  offering  to  her  country,  and  to  take 
up  the  burden  of  guarding  the  little  home- 
kingdom  until  their   soldier  should  return. 

Hers  was  a  strange-looking  battlefield,  with 
its  pretty  cottage  and  garden,  and  fast  green- 
ing lawn,  peopled  only  with  her  little  ones,  but 
she  knew  it  was  to  be  a  spot  of  stern  conflict, 
and  hard  struggles. 


54  gom:. 

uO,  Jack  !  it  must  have  been  splendid!  Did 
the  crowd  cheer  loudly?" 

u  You  never  heard  anything  like  it ;  it  was 
perfectly  tremendous ;  you  could  hear  the 
cheers  increasing  all  the  time  as  they  went  on 
down  Broadway.  I  think  it  must  have  sounded 
as  if  one  big  '  hurrah '  began  at  the  armory  and 
never  stopped  until  they  did." 

Suddenly  Jack  jumped  up :  "  Well,  I  am  a 
great  fellow,"  he  said,  "  there  is  your  money 
pinned  in  my  vest  pocket  upstairs,  and  I  never 
thought  of  it.     That's  a  fine  beginning  !  " 

He  was  up  and  down  again  in  no  time  and 
put  the  envelope  in  his  mother's  hand.  Mrs. 
Brereton  counted  the  money  slowly  and  sat 
for  a  few  minutes  with  the  bank-notes  in  her 
hand.  "  Eighty-five  dollars,  Jack !  It  is  not 
much,  dear,  to  depend  on  for  three  months." 

"  O,  but,  mother !  there  is  one  hundred  and 
fifty  in  the  bank,  father  said,  and  Mr.  Robson's 
lust  words  were,  to  come  right  back  to  them 
when  his  time  of  service  expired." 


GONE. 


55 


"If,  by  any  possible  means,  we  can  leave 
that  money  in  the  bank,  there  it  must  stay, 
Jack.  Let  mother  tell  you  what  she  thinks, 
for  we  are  partners  now  and  father  said  I  was 
to  take  you  into  all  my  councils.  Suppose"  — 
the  words  came  slowly  and  were  hard  to  say  — 
"  suppose  your  father  was  wounded,  or  in  any 
way  injured;  suppose  he  was  ill  and  had  to 
come  home  unfit  for  work;  suppose" —  her 
face  grew  deadly  white  and  she  stopped.  "  I 
have  supposed  enough,"  she  continued ;  "  that 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  is  all  we  have  to 
go  to  him,  to  spend  for  him,  to  bring  him  home, 
to  send  him  comforts,  or  do  for  him  anything 
he  might  need.  It  is  all  we  have  for  any 
emergency ;  if  illness  came  to  us  here  at  home, 
it  is  all!  Instead  of  taking  that  money  out  of 
the  bank,  I  want  to  add  to  it ;  we  will  put  our 
heads  together  and  see  if  we  cannot  make  that 
fund  a  little  larger,  so  that  if  he  is  ill  or  in  any 
way  helpless,  there  will  be  something  more  for 
him  to  depend  on  and  for  us  if  distress  comes." 


56 


GONE. 


Jack's  horizon  was  widening  painfully;  many 
tilings  grew  plain  to  him  which  he  had  not  seen 
before.  « It  does  not  seem  as  if  much  could 
happen  in  three  months,  does  it,  mammy  dear? 
We  will  not  need  much  to  live  on,  because  you 
and  I  don't  care  so  very  much  for  nice  things 
to  eat"  —  Jack  came  as  near  the  truth  as  he 
could  —  "and  the  girls  hardly  eat  anything, 
and  the  warm  weather  is  coming  and  we  won't 
want  so  much  coal.  I  think  we  will  get  on 
without  much  trouble." 

All  at  once  his  father's  serious  warning  came 
back  to  his  mind.  "  But,  mother,  he  charged  me 
to  see  that  you  did  not  stint  yourself;  I  prom- 
ised to  remind  you  that  he  was  worried  about 
that.    You  will  mind  what  he  said,  won't  you?" 

"  We  will  have  enough,  son,  but  we  won't 
grumble  if  it  is  only  enough,  will  we  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I  am  <  mustered  in '  as  a  regular  soldier, 
and  I  can't  grumble,  you  know;  that  would 
never  do." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  my  son  ?  " 


GONE.  57 

"  Didn't  father  tell  you?  Why,  I  am  a  three 
months'  man,  too,  and  my  post  is  here ;  father, 
the  night  before  he  went  away,  put  me  on  duty 
here,  as  a  Home  Guard ;  I  made  a  solemn  prom- 
ise, and  everything,  just  as  soldiers  do." 

"Well,"  said  his  mother,  almost  ready  to 
smile  at  his  earnestness,  "I  am  thankful  to  have 
such  a  soldier  to  protect  me,  and  now  let  us 
put  out  the  lights  and  go  to  bed.  I  did  not 
sleep  at  all,  last  night." 

There  was  no  light  in  the  dining-room.  "I 
think  we  will  never  light  that  lamp  over  the 
dining-table  until  father  comes  back ;  what  do 
you  say,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Nor  have  a  meal  in  here,  nor  let  any  one 
sit  in  father's  chair :  that  is  what  I  would  like ! " 

"  So  let  it  be,  Jack ;  we  will  keep  all  those 
things  for  him." 

When  they  went  upstairs  Mrs.  Brereton 
found  the  door  open  between  Jack's  room  and 
hers :  "  Let  me  leave  it  so,  mother,"  said  the 
plucky  boy ;  "  you  will  feel  as  if  I  was  nearer 


GONE. 


to  you  than  if  the  door  was  shut,  and  you  might 
want  something  in  the  night." 

Mrs.  Brereton  looked  at  him  with  overflowing 
eyes. 

Jack  had  not  spent  many  wakeful  hours  in 
the  fourteen  healthful  years  of  his  young  life, 
and  it  was  a  novel  sensation  to  toss  about  upon 
his  comfortable  little  bed,  unable  to  sleep.  But 
the  drum-beat  and  the  splendid  rhythm  of  the 
martial  music  was  in  his  ears,  and  the  day  lived 
itself  over  and  over  again  in  his  memory,  and 
his  pillow  grew  hot  and  uncomfortable  and  his 
cheeks  burned,  and  his  eyelids  would  not  stay 
closed.  Then  he  began  to  ponder  on  what  his 
mother  had  said  and  he  saw  more  and  more 
plainly  that  this  three  months'  service  might 
be  but  an  open  door  to  many  changes  of  which 
he  could  not  bear  to  think,  even  for  a  minute. 
Suppose  his  father  was  wounded,  suppose  — 
Jack  could  stay  in  bed  no  longer,  but  jumped 
out  and  went  softly  into  his  mother's  room  and 
looked  first  at  his  quiet,  rosy  little   sisters  in 


GOXE. 


59 


their  deep    sleep,  and   then    stole  over  to  his 
mother's  side. 

The  faint  light  of  the  night-taper  fell  on  her 
sweet  face  and  her  eyes  opened  at  once,  and  he 
felt  sure  that  she,  too,  had  as  yet  been  unable 
to  sleep.  She  held  out  her  arms  :  "  Can't  you 
sleep,  dear  ?     What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

« I  wanted  to  see  if  you  and  the  girls  were 
all  right." 

«  On  guard  ?  Well,  it  is  comfortable  to  have 
a  soldier  so  near,  but  every  sentinel  has  his 
time  of  relief,  and  you  must  sleep  now  to  keep 
strong." 

She  held  him  tightly  to  her  breast  and  he 
could  feel  the  quick  beating  of  her  heart,  but 
she  did  not  lose  her  self-control.  He  went  back 
soothed  and  in  some  way  freed  from  his  worst 
restlessness.  His  pillow  had  grown  cool,  and 
slowly  he  fell  asleep,  planning  impossible  ways 
of  making  money. 


III. 

AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY. 

TACK  awoke  with  a  confused  idea  of  some- 
"  thing  being  wrong  and  requiring  atten- 
tion, and  gradually  found  out  that  yesterday 
was  not  a  dream  but  a  real  experience ;  that  he 
had  slept  later  than  usual,  and  to  his  mortifica- 
tion found  his  mother's  bed  vacant  and  knew 
that  she  had  begun  the  day  alone. 

He  hurried  to  the  extent  of  neglecting  some 
things  that  he  was  usually  very  careful  about 
and  ran  downstairs  full  of  regret,  to  find  the 
house  open,  and  the  kitchen  fire  which  his 
father  always  lighted,  already  brightly  burning 
and  the  table  laid  for  breakfast. 

"  Mother,  why  didn't  you  call  me  ?  I  am  so 
sorry  !  " 

"  You  looked  so  tired,  dear,  and  had   been 
60 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   61 

awake  so  late,  I  had  not  the  heart  to  rouse 
you.  There  was  very  little  to  do,  and  no 
reason  to  hurry."  Mrs.  Brereton's  voice  broke 
into  a  little  dry  sob. 

"  Oh  !  but,  mother,  you  had  to  come  down 
alone.     What  would  father  say  ?  " 

He  bustled  about  and  tried  to  find  things  to 
do  and  felt  more  comfortable  after  he  had 
swept  the  front  veranda  and  the  path  to  the 
gate.  u  Do  you  want  me  to  go  to  school, 
mother  ?  "  he  said,  as  he  hung  up  the  broom. 

"  Yes,  certainly,  son.     Why  not  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  embarrassed  by 
his  mother's  tone  of  surprise  ;  "  I  thought  you 
might  want  me  for  something,  and  besides  I 
would  like  to  leave  school  if  I  could  find  any 
work  that  would  bring  you  a  little  money." 

His  mother  gave  his  curly  head  a  tender 
caress,  and  she  smiled  a  little  sad  smile,  but 
she  said :  "  I  don't  see  the  way  clear  for  that 
yet,  Jack,  but  I  tell  you  what  you  can  do  for 
me  ;  take  this  note  to  the  rectory  and  stop  for 


62    AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY. 

the  answer  when  you  come  back  from  school. 
I  think  Mrs.  Dorrance  may  have  some  sewing 
to  give  me,  for  she  has  a  great  many  orders 
for  fine  work  from  ladies  in  New  York." 

Jack  was  troubled  and  could  not  tell  what 
to  do ;  he  felt  sure  his  father  would  have  ob- 
jected to  this  plan,  and  remembered  that  this 
work  usually  went  into  the  hands  of  very  poor 
people  for  whom  his  mother  had  often  done 
little  kindnesses  and  he  felt  like  discussing  the 
matter,  but  he  saw  such  a  calm,  steadfast  face 
looking  lovingly  at  him,  and  eyes  so  full  of  de- 
termination, that  he  said  nothing.  He  remem- 
bered that  money  must  be  made  somehow,  and 
he  took  the  note  with  his  books  and  started  off 
for  school  very  much  "  out  of  heart."  Pie  had 
to  be  excused  from  his  lessons,  for  he  had  not 
even  tried  to  learn  them ;  he  had  to  go  alone 
when  he  had  always  walked  as  far  as  the  station 
with  his  father,  and  he  had  to  leave  his  mother 
to  her  own  sad  thoughts  until  afternoon,  and 
he  was  dissatisfied  because  of  his  having  fallen 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   63 

• 

short  of  his  promise  on  the  very  first  day,  and 
Jack  liked  none  of  these  things. 

Once  at  school,  however,  he  became  the  hero 
of  the  day;  the  boys  made  him  tell  every 
minute  particular  about  the  regiment  and  the 
armory,  and  looked  upon  him  as  a  most  enviable 
fellow,  and  even  Mr.  Holtin,  the  head  master, 
called  him  up  to  his  desk  and  inquired  most 
kindly  about  his  father  and  mother,  and  was 
peculiarly  kind  to  him  all  day. 

Just  before  dismissing  school,  Mr.  Holtin 
said:  "  Boys,  if  any  of  you  know  any  poor  lad 
who  would  like  to  earn  a  couple  of  dollars  a 
week  by  keeping  the  sidewalk  and  grounds 
about  my  house  in  order,  I  wish  you  would 
send  him  to  me.  He  must  be  a  decent,  trust- 
worthy boy  and  one  old  enough  to  do  the  work 

well." 

The  blood  rushed  into  Jack's  face  and  head, 
his  ears  tingled  and  burned,  and  he  did  not 
quite  like  being  set  down  as  a  "  decent  boy," 
but  he  wanted  that    job.     Getting  rid  of  his 


G4   AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY. 

i 

comrades  by  saying  that  he  had  to  stop  at  the 
rectory  for  his  mother,  he  went  to  Mr.  Holtin, 
just  as  he  was  locking  up  his  desk,  and  said 
awkwardly,  "Mr.  Holtin,  would  I  do  for  the 
boy  you  spoke  of  to  take  care  of  your  sidewalk 
and  paths?" 

"  You,  Jack  ?  Why,  I  was  thinking  of  some 
of  our  poor  neighbors  who  needed  a  little  help. 
What  made  you  think  of  it?  I  doubt  if  your 
parents  would  like  it." 

Jack  was  in  deep  water,  but  he  pulled  him- 
self together :  « Father  lost  his  position,  when 
he  went  with  his  regiment,  and  our  new  house 
has  taken  almost  all  he  had  put  away,  and 
mother  is  afraid  that  he  might  need  the  little 
we  have  left,  if  he  was  sick  or  anything,  and 
we  are  going  to  earn  some  money,  if  we 
can,  and  I  think  I  ought  to  take  this  if  I 
suit  you." 

Mr.  Holtin  laid  a  hand  on  either  shoulder 
of  the  sinewy,  erect  young  figure  and  looked 
into  his  earnest  eyes  and  said  very  gently : 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   65 

"  Have  it  and  welcome,  Jack,  but  there  is  a 
good  deal  of  work  to  be  done  for  the   money." 

"  It  is  eight  dollars  a  month,  and  father  only 
gets  thirteen  for  his  pay  as  a  soldier." 

"  It  strikes  me  that  you  are  somewhat  of  a 
soldier  yourself,  Jack ;  you  don't  shirk  duty." 

"  I  would  like  to  be  one,  and  I  am  a  sort  of 
Home  Guard,  for  father  regularly  mustered  me 
in,  to  mother's  service,  before  he  went  away," 
said  Jack,  smiling. 

"  Well,  my  boy,  I  think  cleaning  my  yard  is 
a  good  deal  like  attacking  a  fortification  for 
you,  or  will  be,  when  the  boys  begin  to  wonder 
about  it,  and  the  difficulties   show  themselves." 

"  Oh !  I  think  I  can  stand  what  the  fellows 
say,  if  they  don't  make  me.too  angry.  What  is 
the  best  time  for  me  to  commence? 

"  From  half-past  seven  to  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning  ought  to  be  enough  time,  I  should 
think,  except  on  Saturdays  when  there  is  more 
to  be  done,  and  then  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have 
to  keep  you  until  nearly  noon." 


GO       AN   UNEXPECTED   WAY   TO   MAKE   MONEY. 

"That  would  suit  me  nicely,  thank  you,  sir, 
for  then  I  would  have  my  afternoons  to  keep 
things  tidy  at  home,  and  if  I  can  do  it  all  as 
you  like  to  have  it  done,  won't  you  please  let 
me  know,  if  you  hear  of  any  one  else  who 
wants  a  boy  for  little  odd  jobs?  Father  taught 
me  how  to  do  a  good  many  things.  I  know 
how  to  take  good  care  of  chickens." 

"  You  deserve  to  be  successful,  Jack,  and  I 
will  gladly  do  all  I  can  to  help  you,  but  don't 
forget  the  school  work ;  keep  that  well  in  hand ; 
you  must  not  lose  your  grade  in  your  class." 

"  All  right,  sir,  I'll  study  in  the  evenings.  I 
shall  have  to  sit  up  later  now,  to  keep  mother 
company,"  said  Jack. 

«  Good-by,  then,  until  to-morrow  morning," 
said  Mr.  Holtin,  shaking  his  hand  warmly.  "  I 
shall  look  out  for  you   about  half-past  seven." 

Jack  was  full  of  delight  at  this  immediate 
and  unlooked-for  opportunity,  and  this  per- 
sonal experience  made  him  take  quite  a  differ- 
ent view   of   his   mother's    application  at  the 


AX  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   67 

rectory,  and  he  had  great  satisfaction  in  re- 
ceiving from  Mrs.  Dorrance  a  small  parcel 
which  evidently  contained  work.  Money  mak- 
ing would  begin  at  once. 

He  bounded  into  the  kitchen  door  and  put 
his  arm  about  his  mother's  neck.  "Halloo! 
mammy  dear,  I  have   great  news  for  you." 

Mrs.  Brereton  turned  with  painful  haste : 
"  From  your  father  ?  " 

Poor  Jack  repented  his  hasty  eagerness: 
«  O,  no,  mother !  we  could  not  have  any  news 
yet.  I  am  sorry  I  did  not  think  before  I  spoke, 
I  only  wanted  to  tell  you  that  I  have  found 
some  work.  Would  two  dollars  a  week  be  of 
any  help  to  you  ?  " 

«  Of  course,  Jack,  it  would  be  of  great  ser- 
vice ;  it  ought  to  go  a  long  way  toward  paying 
the  butcher's  bill." 

"Well,  that  would  be  'bully,'  if  I  could  do 
that.  I  am  sure  of  the  work  if  I  keep  well.  I 
am  going  to  keep  Mr.  Holtin's  paths  clean  and 
do  a  lot  of  those  sorts  of  things  every  morning." 


68       AX  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE   MONEY, 

"  How  did  Mr.  Iloltin  come  to  offer  it  to 
you?" 

"  He  didn't.  He  only  asked  us  to  send  him 
a  '  decent  boy,'  who  could  attend  to  the  grounds, 
and  I  felt  like  shouting  out,  like  the  Irishman 
father  laughs  about,  and  saying:  'Oirne  him, 
sor.'  But  I  waited  until  the  boys  were  gone 
and  asked  for  it  and  he  gave  it  to  me.  At  first 
he  thought  you  might  object,  but  I  told  him 
that  we  wanted  to  save  all  the  money  we  could 
for  father,  and  then  he  said,  'All  right.'  It 
was  no  harm  to  tell  him  that  much,  mother, 
was  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Brereton  could  not  but  be  cheered  by 
his  jolly  face  and  his  unselfish  eagerness  to 
find  work  without  regard  to  his  own  labor  or 
personal  annoyance.  "This  is  an  unlooked- 
for  piece  of  good  luck,  Jack,  and  I  am  sure 
you  will  do  the  work  well.  Father  was  always 
very  proud  of  the  way  in  which  you  kept  our 
own  walks.  You  were  quite  right,  too,  to  tell 
Mr.  Iloltin." 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   69 

Jack  was  delighted.  "And,  oh  !  here  is  your 
answer  from  Mrs.  Dorrance.  Is  it  what  you 
wanted  ?  " 

Mrs.  Brereton  opened  the  parcel  and  found  a 
child's  flannel  skirt  to  embroider.  "  Yes,  Jack  ; 
it  is  a  good  thing  to  get  something  right  away, 
and  it  will  bring  two  dollars  when  it  is  done, 
but  it  will  take  most  of  my  spare  time  for  a 
week,  so  you  will  probably  bring  as  much  to 
the  family  fund  as  I  will.  Now  bring  Dolly  in 
from  the  garden  and  let  us  have  our  dinner." 

Fried  hominy  and  apple  sauce,  and  bread 
and  butter  and  milk,  and  a  slice  of  cold  beef. 
Jack's  hunger  was  keen,  the  odor  of  the  deli- 
cate brown  hominy  was  very  enticing,  the 
maple  syrup  made  a  pale  golden  glory,  in 
which  the  brown  islands  rested  temptingly, 
and  he  pronounced  it  a  "dinner  fit  for  a 
king." 

Toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon  both 
mother  and  son  became  restless.  No  one  to 
watch  for,  no  pleasant  evening  to  look  forward 


70   AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY. 

to,  no  inviting  table  to  spread  and  make  ready. 
Jack  finished  all  his  work,  that  which  was 
really  needful,  and  that  which  he  created  for 
himself,  in  his  desire  to  keep  busy  and  be  use- 
ful, lie  did  not  feel  willing  to  leave  his  mother 
alone  and  run  off  in  search  of  a  playmate,  so 
he  had  nothing  left  to  do  but  to  fidget  aimlessly 
about,  in  and  out  of  the  house  every  ten  minutes. 
He  had  taken  Flossy  out  in  her  wagon,  and  had 
a  little  fun  with  Dolly,  and  cleaned  out  the  nests 
in  the  hen  house,  and  put  in  fresh  hay,  and  he 
could  think  of  nothing  else  to  do. 

"  Mother,"  he  said  at  last,  "  might  I  go  down 
to  the  station  and  see  the  train  come  in  and 
get  a  newspaper  ?" 

"  Yes,  Jack ;  I  want  the  Eveyiing  Post,  very 
much.  I  would  subscribe  for  it,  only  that  we 
can  always  have  Mr.  Paxson's  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  it  is  one  of  the  small  expenses  that 
help  to  make  a  large  whole.  I  am  so  anxious 
to-night,  however,  that  I  think  we  must  in- 
dulge ourselves." 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   71 

"  I  have  a  quarter  father  gave  me  yesterday  ; 
I'll  use  that  for  papers  as  long  as  it  lasts." 

It  was  a  comfort  to  have  something  to  do, 
and  he  ran  off  as  fast  as  a  very  lively  pair  of 
lees  would  carry  him.  He  was  too  earlv  for 
the  train  his  father  had  been  accustomed  to 
take,  and  he  walked  up  and  down  the  road  at 
the  head  of  the  steps,  half-sorry  now  that  he 
had  come,  since  it  proved  so  dreary  not  to  have 
anjr  one  to  meet. 

A  gentleman  drove  up  to  the  station  and 
asked  when  the  up- train  was  due.  Jack 
answered  promptly  :  "  Six-ten,  sir."  He  knew 
the  hour  well. 

"  Then  I  have  twenty  minutes  to  spare ; 
could  you  hold  my  horse  ?  I  want  to  speak  to 
the  baggage -master,  who  is  down  by  the  track. 
Do  you  know  how  to  drive  ?  " 

"  Xo,  sir,  I  don't." 

"  Did  you  never  drive  at  all  ?" 

"  Once  in  a  great  while  father  would  let  me 
have  the  reins,  if  he  took  me  for  a  drive,  but  I 


72       AN  UNEXPECTED   WAY   TO  MAKE  MONKEY. 

don't  know  anything  about  it.  We  never  had 
a  horse  of  our  own." 

The  gentleman  seemed  disappointed  and 
looked  about  for  some  one  else,  but  the  few 
loiterers  had  gone  down  the  steps  to  be  nearer 
the  track  and  Jack  and  he  were  all  alone. 

"  My  horse  is  very  gentle,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
would  very  much  like  to  get  down  there  and 
see  if  the  baggage-master  has  a  box  I  am  look- 
ing for  ;  would  you  be  afraid  to  hold  her  ?  I 
won't  stay  five  minutes,  and  will  be  up  long 
before  the  train  comes  through.  The  only 
thing  that  can  scare  her,  is  a  locomotive 
whistle.  Jump  in  and  take  the  reins  a  minute 
and  let  me  see  how  you  can  handle  them." 

Jack  did  not  like  the  situation,  but  the  pretty 
horse  seemed  as  gentle  and  easy  to  manage  as 
a  kitten  and  he  did  not  like  that  word  "afraid." 
He  sprang  lightly  into  the  phaeton  and  took 
the  offered  reins.  "  Drive  on  a  little  way," 
said  the  gentleman.     "  Get  on,  Rose  !" 

The  obedient  animal  trotted  quickly  forward, 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   73 

and  her  delicate  mouth  gave  Jack  no  sense  of 
strain  upon  Lis  arms.  "Now  turn,"  said  the 
owner. 

With  great  care  and  some  anxiety,  Jack  ac- 
complished the  feat.  "  Oh  !  you'll  do  very  well, 
very  well  indeed;  she'll  give  you  no  trouble; 
you  just  walk  her  up  and  down  here  and  I'll 
be  back  before  you  know  it."  And  waiting  for 
no  further  parleying,  he  said,  "  Whoa,  Rose," 
and  jumped  out  of  the  vehicle  as  nimbly  as  the 
boy  himself  could  have  done. 

Two  or  three  of  the  allotted  five  minutes 
had  passed  and  Jack  had  grown  accustomed  to 
his  position,  and  the  horse  had  evidently  ac- 
cepted the  order  of  things,  and  almost  turned 
of  her  own  free  will  when  she  reached  the 
place  where  Jack  had  succeeded  in  bringing 
her  round,  when  suddenly  the  vibration  of  the 
ground,  and  the  unmistakable  dull  thunder  of 
an  approaching  train  struck  the  senses  of  both 
Jack  and  his  charge. 

Jack  tightened  his  grasp  upon  the  reins  and 


74   AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY. 

said  a  soothing  "Whoa,  Kose,  whoa,"  but  his 
voice  was  a  strange  one  to  the  sensitive  beast, 
and  she  paid  no  heed  to  it.  With  a  wild  shriek 
of  warning,  an  "extra"  train  dashed  through 
the  deep  cut  below  them,  and  instantly  rearing 
to  her  full  height,  the  poor  horse  seemed  to 
Jack's  startled  eyes  to  stand  upright  before 
him.  She  pawed  madly  in  the  air  and  then 
"  bolted  "  violently  down  the  road. 

Unfortunately  the  way  before  them  lay,  for 
full  half  a  mile,  directly  down  hill  and  every 
instant  his  speed  increased.  The  cries  of  people 
on  the  road  and  the  senseless  efforts  of  foot 
passengers,  now  on  their  way  to  the  station,  to 
stop  their  progress,  only  added  to  the  terror  of 
the  high  bred  horse,  and  the  danger  increased 
with  every  second.  One  thing  alone  helped 
him ;  the  stage  driver's  direction  to  "  keep  cool 
and  try  to  hold  the  right  of  the  road."  He 
shouted  this  advice  in  such  a  clear  and  cheery 
Voice,  that  Jack  heard  and  tried  to  heed  him. 
With  a  thought  sent  upward  to  God  for  help, 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   77 

a  wordless  appeal  from  his  heart  to  the  mercy 
of  Heaven,  Jack  strove  to  keep  his  wits  about 
him,  or  rather  to  recall  some  of  his  startled 
ideas  to  his  frightened  mind.  He  instinctively 
wound  the  reins  about  his  boyish  hands  and 
tried  to  look  straight  ahead  and  hold  an  even, 
steady  course. 

Madder  and  madder  grew  the  pace  ;  even  if 
he  could  have  turned  his  head,  he  would  hardly 
have  been  able  to  recognize  the  places  he  passed 
with  such  amazing  speed.  He  heard  his  name 
once  or  twice  as  they  tore  through  the  wide 
village  streets  :  "  It's  Jack  Brereton  !  Hold 
on,  Jack  !  "  That  was  all  he  heard  out  of  the 
medley  of  voices. 

He  seemed  to  be  fast  leaving  all  he  knew 
behind  him,  he  could  not  keep  his  seat  and  .his 
arms  seemed  straining  away  from  their  sockets. 
He  braced  his  feet  against  the  dash-board  and 
held  on. 

Vehicles  drew  away  on  either  side  and  merci- 
fully the  road  was  straight,  and  the  horse  did 


78       AN   UNEXPECTED   WAY  TO  MAKE  HONEY. 

not  show  any  tendency  to  swerve.  All  at 
once  it  flashed  into  the  boy's  mind,  his  first 
really  intelligent  idea:  «  She  is  trotting  like  a 
race  horse  ;  she  goes  as  if  she  was  used  to  it ; 
it's  different  from  the  way  we  started."  This 
was  the  actual  truth,  for  our  poor  Jack  was 
driving  one  of  the  most  famous  trotting  horses 
in  the  country,  and  it  was  due  to  her  good 
sense  and  training  that  she  had  held  the  road, 
and  now  that  her  flight  had  partially  passed 
away,  and  no  recurring  noise  disturbed  her, 
she  began  to  fancy  she  was  speeding  on  a 
track  and  was  out-doing  her  record  in  fine 
style.  Slowly  Jack's  wits  came  back  also,  and 
as  his  fears  grew  less,  he  found  a  sort  of  breath- 
less and  terrible  pleasure  in  his  flying  speed. 

The  town  was  now  a  mile  behind,  and  they 
had  reached  the  foot  of  "  Miner's  Hill,"  the  as- 
cent of  which  was  the  dread  of  every  heavy- 
ladened  team.  «  Perhaps  here  the  horse  might 
slacken  her  pace?"  Jack's  hopes  began  to 
rise.     They  struck   the    first  few  feet  of    the 


AX  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   79 

long  steep  grade,  and,  God  be  thanked,  there 
was  a  change ! 

By  no  possibility  could  this  be  a  track  ;  hills 
like  this  were  never  found  there.  Perhaps  the 
bright-witted  creature  thought  she  had  won 
her  race,  at  any  rate,  she  stopped  almost  as 
suddenly  as  she  had  started. 

Jack  loosened  his  clinched  fingers  and 
dropped  his  tired  legs  from  the  dash-board, 
and  spoke  to  her.  She  turned  her  foam- 
covered  neck  and  looked  at  him ;  he  caught 
the  idea  that  she  wanted  petting  and  leaned 
forward  and  patted  her  quivering  flank,  and 
said,  "Poor  Rose,  poor  Rose,"  as  he  would 
have  done  to  a  tired  child.  She  seemed  satis- 
fied and  stood  with  her  head  down  drawing 
heavy  breaths. 

They  could  hardly  turn  where  they  were, 
Jack  feared,  and  the  hill  was  a  hard  climb  for 
the  tired  beast.  His  safety  after  such  a  wild 
drive,  however,  gave  him  courage  ;  he  would 
try  to  turn  where  he  then  was.     He  got  out 


80   AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY. 

and  went  to  her  head  and  stroked  her  wet  face 
and  she  perceptibly  leaned  against  him  as  if 
pleased. 

"  Poor  Rose,"  he  said,  "  it  won't  do  to  stand 
still  here,  we'll  have  to  turn  round,"  and  tak- 
ing her  by  the  bridle  he  gently  turned  the 
phaeton,  trying  to  imitate  what  he  had  seen 
done,  and  succeeded  ■  without  any .  imminent 
risk  of  an  overturn,  and  at  last  Rose's  head 
again  pointed  homeward.  He  took  his  hand- 
kerchief and  then  his  soft  cap  and  wiped  off 
the  foam  about  her  eyes,  and  resuming  his  seat, 
took  the  reins  up  gently. 

"Get  on,  Rose,"  he  said  encouragingly,  and 
she  fell  into  a  long,  slow  striding  walk,  which 
carried  them  over  the  ground  at  some  speed, 
though  she  never  hastened  her  step.  Doubt- 
less she  thought  it  was  a  long  way  to  the  pad- 
dock, but  her  driver  had  the  good  sense  not  to 
try  to  influence  her  pace,  and  only  repeated 
from  time  to  time  a  cheery  «  Get  on,  Rose,"  to 
keep  up  her  courage. 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   81 

As  he  came  near  the  village,  he  saw  many 
people  coming  toward  him,  and  soon  made  out 
that  they  were  looking  for  him,  and  pass- 
ing through  the  little  crowd,  at  a  smart  trot, 
came  a  horse  and  buggy,  in  which  sat  Rose's 
owner. 

In  a  minute  more  he  was  beside  Jack,  and 
springing  out  said  in  the  heartiest  tone  of  joy- 
ful thanksgiving:  "All  safe,  by  everything 
that's  good  !  And  you,  youngster,  whoever 
you  are,  have  pluck  and  coolness  enough  to 
carry  you  through  the  world  safely,  I  can  tell 
you  that,  surely.  This  is  '  Rose  Deories,'  the 
great  trotter,  you  are  driving,  and  no  man  will 
ever  take  a  faster  drive  than  you  have  had 
this  afternoon,  while  you  live.  How  did  you 
turn?  Did  you  strike  anything?"  He  ca- 
ressed and  stroked  the  hot,  full-veined  sides 
of  his  pet,  asking  questions  every  moment. 
"  Who  stopped  her  ?  "  He  did  not  wait  for 
answers,  but  moved  from  side  to  side  examin- 
ing horse  and  wagon  as  rapidly  as  he  talked. 


82    AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY. 

"  Nothing  is  hurt !  All  as  safe  and  tight  as 
possible  !  "  he  exclaimed  exultingly. 

The  outcoming  villagers  gathered  around  the 
two  wagons.     (i  Whose  boy  is  this  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Mrs.  Brereton's,"  said  many  voices.  "  His 
father  went  to  the  war  yesterday." 

Jack  sat  still,  feeling  a  little  giddy,  and  now 
that  he  had  no  responsibility  to  strengthen  his 
nerves,  becoming  very  limp. 

"  Where's  your  cap,  Jack?"  asked  a  friendly 
voice. 

"  I  took  it  to  wipe  off  Rose's  face,"  he  said, 
half-ashamed  of  the  confession  ;  "  her  eyes 
were  all  covered  with  foam,  and  my  handker- 
chief got  wet  through  in  a  minute." 

"  Good  boy  !  "  said  Rose's  master  ;  "  your 
mother  will  be  proud  of  you  some  day,  if  you 
always  do  as  well  as  you  have  done  now.  Do 
you  know  that  if  you  had  yelled  at  that  horse, 
or  struck  her,  or  helped  to  frighten  her  by  any 
nonsense,  she  and  you  would  both  have  been 
done  for  ?     She  is  worth  a  good  many  thou- 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   83 

sands  to  me,  but  your  parents  have  got  some- 
think  better  worth  having.  Where  do  you 
live?" 

Twenty  people  told  him  at  once. 

"  I  am  coming  to  see  your  mother,"  he  said, 
almost  affectionately,  "but  I've  got  to  take 
Rose  home  now  and  have  her  attended  to. 
Who'll  drive  the  boy  home  and  take  this  buggy 
to  the  livery  stable  ?  " 

Half  the  crowd  were  ready. 

Jack  got  out  of  the  phaeton  slowly,  and 
when  he  touched  the  ground  felt  very  un- 
steady on  his  legs.  He  walked  to  Rose's  head 
and  put  his  hand  on  her  forehead  and  gently 
stroked  her  delicate  face.  She  stretched  out 
her  neck  and  rested  her  head  on  his  shoulder. 

"  By  the  limping  Harry,  she  knows  you 
drove  her !  She  is  proud  of  you,"  said  the 
owner.  "  If  anybody  ever  asks  you  if  you  can 
drive,  tell  them  you  drove  Rose  Deories  in  the 
fastest  trot  she  ever  made,  and  send  for  me  to 
prove  it." 


84   AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY. 

Jack  had  not  strength  to  be  proud,  and  they 
had  to  steady  him  a  little  as  he  climbed  into 
the  returning  buggy.  The  gentleman  came 
round  to  shake  hands  with  him,  and  said 
laughingly,  "  You  have  not  been  paid  yet  for 
holding  my  horse,  Jack,"  pressing  a  crumpled 
bank-note  into  his  hand  as  he  held  it. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Jack,  without  regard 
to  what  he  was  receiving. 

"Can  I  do  anything  else  for  you?" 

"  I  would  like  to  see  Rose  again,  sometime." 

"And  so  you  shall  and  drive  her,  too.  Good- 
by."  And  as  he  moved  rapidly  away,  Jack's 
buggy  was  moving  as  quickly  toward  home. 

The  man  who  drove,  saw  he  was  unfit  to 
talk  much  and  they  went  forward  in  silence 
until  they  came  in  sight  of  the  station,  when 
Jack  suddenly  became  animated:  "Oh!  I  wish 
I  could  get  an  evening  paper  for  my  mother ; 
that's  what  I  came  down  here  for." 

"You  shall  have  all  the  papers  you  want, 
Jack.     It  was  blamed  mean  in  Mr.  Rodney  to 


AN  UNEXPECTED  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY.   85 

ask  you  to  hold  such  a  horse  as  that,  but  I  tell 
you,  you've  made  a  good  friend  of  him  for  all 
your  life  ;  he  was  dead  sure  you  would  try  to 
jump  out,  or  drop  the  lines,  or  do  some  fool's 
trick.  He  ought  to  do  something  handsome 
by  you.  Why,  you've  got  some  money  in 
your  hand  now.     Did  he  give  it  to  you  ?  " 

Jack  had  scarcely  noticed  what  he  held  in 
his  damp,  shaky  hand.  His  companion  leaned 
over  and  examined  it.  «  Why,  Jack,  it's  a  ten- 
ner !  That's  pretty  good  to  begin  with.  Put 
it  in  your  pocket." 

Jack  looked  at  it  in  astonishment ;  sure 
enough  it  was  a  veritable  ten-dollar  note,  and 
he  did  not  care  if  he  was  a  bit  faint,  and  had 
ruined  his  cap,  and  heard  a  strange  roaring  in 
his  ears,  and  had  been  run  away  with  in  the 
bargain.  This  was  worth  it  all,  and  he  reached 
the  gate  holding  money  and  paper  equally 
tight. 


IV. 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

WHEN  the  buggy  drove  to  the  gate,  Jack 
was  not  surprised  to  see  his  mother 
coming  down  the  walk  to  look  for  him,  but  he 
was  not  prepared  to  see  her  suddenly  turn  pale 
and  begin  to  run. 

"  All  right !  He's  all  right,"  called  out  the 
man  who  drove  him. 

"  She  is  frightened  to  see  me  in  a  buggy." 

"Yes;  and  then  you  are  bareheaded  and  look 
pretty  well  used  up,"  said  the  good-natured 
villager.    "  Mothers'  eyes  are  sharp,  I  tell  you." 

Jack  stepped  to  the  ground  as  fast  as  he 
could,  but  it  was  by  no  means  at  his  usual  rate 
of  speed.  "  Please  come  to  the  gate,  Mis' 
Brereton,"  called  out  the  driver,  and  she  came 

so  quickly  that  she  met  Jack  just  as  he  opened  it. 

86 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.        87 

"Jack's  all  right,  ma'am,  and  you'd  better 
believe  he's  done  his  best  this  afternoon.  He's 
made  of  good  stuff,  Jack  is.  He's  had  a  fast 
ride,  that's  all ;  he'll  tell  you  all  about  it,  Mis' 
Brereton."  He  gave  Jack's  hand  a  hearty 
shake  and  drove  off. 

With  his  arm  around  his  mother's  waist  and 
her  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  they  walked  slowly 
to  the  house,  Jack  telling  his  story  by  no  means 
too  clearly  or  connectedly.  On  the  doorstep 
sat  Dolly,  hugging  Flossy,  with  whom  she  had 
been  trusted  for  the  moment,  with  faithful 
tightness.  Mrs.  Brereton  released  her  baby 
from  the  close-locked  little  hands,  and  led  the 
way  into  the  house. 

"  Where's  your  cap,  my  son  ? "  Jack  pro- 
duced from  his  pocket  what  had  been  once  a 
tidy  head-covering,  and  showed  a  moist  little 
lump  of  cloth,  stiff  with  the  frothy  foam  which 
he  had  wiped  from  Rose's  eyes. 

"  I  am  sorry  it  is  spoiled,  mother  dear,  but  I 
had    nothing   else   I   could  use,  and  the  poor 


88       TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

beast  was  half-blind  with  all  that  stuff  running 
down  her  face;  my  handkerchief  was  hardly 
any  use.  Do  you  mind  very  much  ?  J  think 
this  will  pay  for  it,"  and  he  held  up  his  pale 
green  trophy. 

"  Ten  dollars  !  Where  on  earth  did  you  get 
that?" 

"  The  gentleman  gave  it  to  me,  when  he  took 
the  horse." 

"Ten  dollars  for  taking  care  of  a  horse? 
My  dear  child,  that  is  impossible  ;  he  must  have 
made  a  mistake." 

"  Well,  you  see,  mammy,"  said  Jack,  laughing, 
"  it  was  not  the  usual  way  of  taking  care  of  a 
horse,  and  somehow  he  thought  things  might 
have  been  worse  and  he  said  she  was  worth 
thousands  of  dollars,  so  I  am  pretty  sure  he 
meant  to  give  me  something  very  nice,  and  the 
man  who  drove  me  home  seemed  to  think  it 
was  all  right.  You  see  I  managed  to  keep  still 
and  that  was  lucky,  and  I  held  on  to  the  reins 
and  that  was  lucky  too,  and  he  even  seemed  to 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.        89 

want  to  do  more  for  me,  so  I  am  pretty  sure 
it's  all  right." 

Mrs.  Brereton  looked  grave.  "I  am  sure 
that  you  have  been  in  serious  danger,  Jack, 
and  all  we  can  do  is  to  be  thankful  you  are 
safely  out  of  it,  and  if  this  money  is  really 
yours,  to  be  grateful  for  that  also,  for  it  will  be 
a  great  help.  And  now,  where  is  the  paper  ?  " 
In  the  crowded  columns,  full  of  the  mingled 
tangle  of  true  and  false,  of  which  war-time 
"  news "  was  always  made,  they  at  last  found 
the  name  of  their  regiment  and  learned  that  it 
had  embarked  at  the  appointed  time  and  gone 
down  the  bay  in  the  transport  provided  for  it. 
It  seemed  strange  to  see  what  a  small  item 
it  was,  in  the  account  of  moving  armies;  to 
them,  it  was  the  only  important  tidings  in  the 
closely  printed  sheet. 

"Just  think,  Jack,  how  many  feel  as  we  do, 
dear,  and  so  many  have  gone  for  years,  instead 
of  months.  No  hope  until  the  war  is  over." 
Jack  tried  to  be  as  sorry  for  others  as  he  could, 


90        TIM    KELLY     WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

but  after  all  his  efforts,  his  father  was  the  only 
man  lie  knew  who  had  gone  to  the  fight,  their 
regiment  was  the  one  lie  had  seen  march  away, 
and  he  could  not  stretch  his  sympathies  far  be- 
yond his  own  experiences. 

After  this,  for  a  few  days  nothing  occurred 
to  especially  affect  their  lives.  Jack  took  fine 
care  of  Mr.  Holtin's  small  grass  plots  and  grav- 
eled walks,  and  bore  the  comments  of  his 
schoolmates  in  a  very  manly  fashion.  He  was 
also  busy  with  his  own  poultry,  attending  to 
his  setting  hens  and  nursing  a  young  brood  of 
chicks,  which  had  ventured  into  the  world  while 
springtime  was  yet  a  very  cool  season,  hardly 
fitted  to  their  downy  condition. 

The  boy's  active  mind  was  perpetually  trying 
to  think  of  schemes  for  earning  money,  but  as 
yet  he  could  find  nothing  practicable  but  his 
present  work  for  Mr.  Holtin.  The  two  dol- 
lars he  received  on  Saturday  afternoon  gave 
him  great  satisfaction.  On  this  day  too,  his 
mother's   beautiful    needlework   was   delivered 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.        91 

at  the  rectory,  promptly  paid  for,  and  new  work 
obtained,  so  that  by  their  joint  labor  and  by  his 
unsought  acquaintance  with  Rose  Deories  and 
her  owner,  fourteen  dollars  had  been  accumu- 
ated  during  the  week.  They  were  truly  grate- 
ful for  this  good  fortune. 

After  Jack's  lessons  were  learned  the  re- 
mainder of  their  evenings  was  spent  in  reading 
the  papers.  Usually  Mrs.  Brereton  sewed  while 
Jack  read  aloud,  and  when  he  chanced  upon 
descriptions  of  what  stirred  his  heart,  either 
kindling  his  anger  or  rousing  his  sympathies, 
his  cheeks  would  flush  and  his  voice  grow 
louder  and  louder  until  he  would  almost  shout 
at  his  gentle  mother,  who  would  raise  a  warn- 
ing hand  and  say,  "Softly,  Jack,  softly;  you 
will  wake  the  children,  son."  Then  he  would 
laugh  at  himself  and  come  down  to  the  level 
of  his  ordinary  tone  and  go  on  with  his  search 
for  every  item  concerning  the  Xew  York  mili- 
tia regiments,  which  to  say  truth  were  swal- 
lowed up  in  and  overshadowed  by  the  more 


9li        TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

important  "  Volunteers,"  on  whom  the  eyes  of 
the  country  were  fixed,  as  they  thronged  from 
every  Northern  State,  offering  their  lives  by 
thousands  to  the  Government. 

Letters  came  slowly,  mails  and  telegraphs 
beside  being  far  less  efficient  than  in  our  hap- 
pier days,  were  just  then  largely  under  the 
control  of  the  War  Department,  and  anxious 
hearts  waited  Ions:. 

The  Ruremont  post-office  was  a  part  of  the 
one  village  "store,"  and  Jack  had  for  five  suc- 
cessive days  presented  himself  there  before  a 
letter  came.  Had  he  been  Mercury  himself,  I 
doubt  if  he  could  have  had  swifter  feet  than 
those  which  carried  him  flying  home.  His 
mother  chanced  to  be  looking  out  of  the  win- 
dow as  he  dashed  through  the  gate  waving  his 
cap  in  one  hand  and  the  letter  in  the  other,  as 
the  surest  way  of  telling  his  good  news  in 
advance. 

The  letter  was  grave  but  encouraging,  full 
of  every  detail  of  their  embarkation  and  of  the 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.        93 

strange  progress  of  a  citizen  of  New  York  go- 
ing to  Washington  to  protect  it  against  the 
advance  of  citizens  of  other  States.  It  was,  he 
said,  like  a  strange,  impossible  vision  of  the 
night,  an  incredible  hallucination,  by  which 
they  were  deceived  and  bewildered.  Some 
time,  wThen  their  journey  was  over  perhaps 
they  would  discover  that  after  all  their  march- 
ing in  such  hot  haste,  all  was  well  in  the  wide 
stately  avenues  of  the  capital  city,  and  they 
would  return  to  wives  and  home,  in  happy 
wonder  at  what  had  brought  them  so  far  away. 

After  this,  the  letter  wThich  wras  written  in 
the  form  of  a  journal  began  to  grow  into  stern 
realization  of  the  facts,  which  grew  clearer  as 
they  went  forward  and  came  nearer  and  nearer 
the  line  of  division  between  the  severed  States, 
and  it  closed  with  a  vivid  description  of  their 
first  camp  in  the  vicinity  of  the  famous  "  Long 
Bridge"  over  the  Potomac,  the  guarding  of 
which  was  to  be  their  present  duty. 

The  record  of  each  day  closed  with  playful 


94         TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KBXPER. 

yet  tender  thoughts  of  home  and  recalled  jokes 
which  had  become  parts  of  the  family  history, 
and  gave  orders  to  Private  John  Brereton  as 
to  duty  at  the  chicken-house  and  the  well,  and 
the  whole  long,  interesting,  inexpressibly  pre- 
cious history  ended  with  a  fond  and  reverent 
committal  of  the  dear  home  and  all  that  it  con- 
tained to  God's  keeping. 

Mother  and  son  read  it  together,  read  it 
alone,  read  parts  of  it  aloud  to  each  other,  and 
felt  as  if  they  had  been  close  to  their  absent 
one  all  the  evening. 

The  first  Sunday  was  indeed  a  strange  day 
to  them,  its  stillness  and  sacred  rest  from  labor 
emphasized  their  loneliness,  and  grown  accus- 
tomed in  a  degree  to  their  changed  lives  on 
week  days,  they  had  here  a  new  and  harder 
lesson  to  learn,  in  the  sadly  altered  routine  of 
what  had  hitherto  been  their  happiest  day. 
Everything  had  been  planned  to  brighten  this 
time  when  they  were  all  together  without  the 
intrusion  of  any  work  to  separate  them. 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.         95 

On  each  alternate  Sunday,  the  washer- 
woman's young  daughter  came  to  mind  the 
"babbies,"  while  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brereton  went 
to  church  together,  and  Jack  staid  at  home 
with  her  to  guard  the  house.  The  mid-day 
meal  was  reduced  to  the  least  possible  "bite," 
just  to  keep  them  from  hunger,  and  the  tea  was 
made  delightful  with  every  dainty  in  Mrs.  Bre- 
reton's  power.  In  this  way  she  was  neither 
hurried  before  nor  after  church  and  yet  it  was 
a  feast  day. 

And  the  afternoons  were  especially  Jack's ; 
after  the  early  Sunday-school  was  over  his 
father  gave  himself  to  him  for  such  walks, 
such  talks,  such  climbs  and  rambles,  as  would 
live  in  his  memory  forever.  And  upon  his 
plate  at  tea-time,  since  he  could  remember, 
there  had  always  been  a  "Sunday  surprise." 
Of  late  there  had  been  occasional  hints  that  his 
long  legs  were  outgrowing  this  childish  habit, 
but  it  had  never  failed  yet.  What  would  the 
day  be  like  without  father  ? 


9(J         TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

At  first  reluctant  to  leave  him,  Mrs.  Brereton 
at  last  yielded  to  his  persuasion  and  let  him 
bring  faithful  Rebecca  to  the  little  girls.  She 
longed  for  the  restful  influence  of  God's  house 
and  felt  as  if  she  would  be  less  lonely  there, 
and  she  had  a  strong  desire  to  join  in  that 
strange  prayer,  which  was  that  day  to  be  used 
for  the  first  time,  for  those  "gone  forth  in  our 
defense."  It  would  then  seem  as  if  all  the  vil- 
lage joined  her  in  asking  God's  mercy  for  her 
soldier  and  she  in  her  turn  would  think  of  every 
sorrowing  woman  in  the  land.  So  she  went 
with  her  quick  noiseless  step  up  the  road, 
where  the  picturesque  little  church  stood  hid- 
den in  a  grove  of  chestnut- trees. 

Jack  sat  down  on  the  front  steps,  looking 
about  him  and  thinking.  How  still  and  beau- 
tiful it  was  and  what  a  sweet  smell  came  from 
the  upturned  fields  and  growing  grass.  How 
incessantly  the  birds  sang,  how  happy  they 
seemed !  The  sky  too  was  full  of  fleecy  clouds 
skimming  over  the  wide  blue  vault  above  him 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.        97 

like  swift  messengers.  His  father's  favorite 
cherry-tree  was  budding  finely,  all  the  young 
fruit  looked  well ;  Jack  tried  to  think  how  far 
he  could  manage  the  garden  by  himself. 

He  felt  convinced  that  he  must  have  help 
from  somewhere;  he  could  not  manage  the 
digging  for  want  of  strength  nor  the  planting 
for  want  of  knowledge  and  the  garden  must  be 
kept  up  —  it  was  his  father's  pride,  it  must  be 
in  fine  order  when  he  came  back  —  and  as  an 
aid  to  their  family  living,  it  could  not  be  spared. 
Money  to  pay  for  a  hired  man  was  not  to  be 
had  ;  what  should  he  do  ? 

What  with  planning  and  thinking  and  in- 
specting, the  morning  flew  past  before  he  could 
believe  it  possible,  and  he  saw  it  was  time 
to  take  Dolly  down  the  road  to  meet  their 
mother. 

How  lonely  she  looked  coming  between  the 
maple-trees,  far  down  the  road!  Just  here, 
their  father  used  to  stop  and  hold  out  his  arms 
to  Dolly,  who  would  run  with  all  her  might  to 


98        TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

be   caught   up  and  tossed   above    her  father's 
head. 

Jack  felt  a  queer  choking  sensation  in  his 
throat  and  oh  !  such  a  longing  in  his  heart,  but 
his  brave  little  mother  found  a  lovely  smile 
wherewith  to  welcome  them,  and  they  strolled 
back  to  the  house  talking  of  ways  and  means 
to  get  the  garden  tilled  and  planted,  and  in 
trying  to  plan  how  to  please  and  satisfy  their 
absent  soldier,  forgot,  in  part  at  least,  their 
own  worry  and  anxiety. 

Help,  however,  was  nearer  than  Jack  im- 
agined, for  scarcely  was  their  brief  mid-day 
meal  over,  when  a  heavy  knock  came  at  the 
kitchen  door,  and,  on  opening  it,  Tim  Kelly, 
the  village  ice-man,  showed  his  broad  good- 
natured  face  and  with  an  awkward  bow,  wanted 
to  know  whether  he  could  speak  to  Master 
Jack  a  minute.  He  refused  to  come  in,  and  so 
Jack,  divining  that  he  sought  a  private  inter- 
view, went  out  to  him. 

"  Could  I  speak  to  you,  Master  Jack?" 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.        99 

«  Certainly,  Tim." 

"  Would  your  mother  want  any  ice  this  sum- 
mer, do  you  think  ?  " 

"I'll  ask  her,  Tim,  but  I  think  not.  She  has 
to  be  very  careful  what  she  buys  now;  you 
know  my  father  has  gone  to  the  war." 

"  Yes,  Master  Jack,  and  that's  what  made  me 
so  bold  as  to  come  askin'  about  the  ice."  Tim 
came  closer  and  put  up  his  big  hand  and  whis- 
pered loudly  in  a  hoarse,  rough  voice,  as  if  he 
had  a  very  bad  cold.  "  I  was  in  hopes  I  might 
make  a  bargain  wid  yourself,  Master  Jack,  so 
that  Mrs.  Brereton  could  have  all  the  ice  she 
wanted  for  nothing." 

Jack's  fixed  look  of  attention  showed  his 
extreme  perplexity. 

Still  Tim  whispered :  "  You  see  I  can't  neither 
read  nor  write  as  well  as  I'd  loike,  and  me  ac- 
counts gets  badly  mixed  sometimes,  and  I 
thought  maybe  you'd  take  'em  in  hand  for  me 
once  or  twice  a  week  and  I  would  give  all  the 
ice  your  mother  might  want,  in  return  for  it." 


100       TIM     KELLY     WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

"  What  kind  of  accounts  are  they,  Tim?" 
"Oh J  well,  there's  what  ice  I  buy  and 
there's  what  ice  I  sell,  and  what  profit  I  make, 
and  how  much  J  leave  wid  each  one  of  me  cus- 
tomers, and  the  bit  I  leave  at  the  store,  and 
what  I  take  out  there  in  trade,  and  what  the 
keep  of  my  horse  costs.  It's  really  nothin'  at 
all,  Master  Jack ;  if  I  was  well  learned  and  my 
hands  wasn't  so  stiff,  and  I  wasn't  so  sleepy  in 
the  evenin's,  I  could  do  it  as  aisy  as  anything. 
I  brought  me  little  book  wid  me ;  you'll  see  it's 
all  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your  face." 

Tim  produced  a  much  soiled  "pass-book," 
the  corners  of  which  were  a  mass  of  "  dog's 
ears "  and  he  looked  anxiously  over  Jack's 
shoulder,  as  the  latter  examined  it.  It  was 
without  doubt  an  original  manuscript  entirely 
unique  in  conception  and  style.  No  attempt 
was  made  to  place  the  figures  in  columns,  nor 
was  there  any  particular  place  for  dates,  but 
over  the  small  pages,  very  crooked,  nearly  il- 
legible characters  told  that  certain  people  re- 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.       101 

ceived  ice,  and  that  occasionally  they  paid  for 
it,  and  that   Tim  had  received  certain  things 
from  the  village  "  store-keeper." 
A  page  read  much  like  this  : 

"  Mis'  Paxson  Ap.  10.  5.  Mister  Rooney,  same  10. 
Mis'  Roggers  same  6.  Meself  half  a  pound  tea  and 
1  sugar.  Mis'  Paxsou  pade  25  cents.  Ap.  11.  bag 
oats  for  the  horse  frum  store,  same  afternoon  tuk 
barrel  apples  dowu,  all  square  up  to  to-day.  Shued 
the  mare  1  dollar.     Mis'  Roggers  Ap.  16.  10." 

Jack's  quick  eyes  gradually  began  to  see 
that  certain  families  were  there  charged  for 
certain  amounts  of  ice  and  that  Tim's  personal 
expenditures  were  readily  sifted  out  from  the 
accounts  of  his  numerous  customers.  M  1  think 
I  could  straighten  it  out  for  you,  Tim,"  he  said 
modestly,  "  and  mother  would  see  if  I  was 
doing  it  all  right.  I  suppose  you  would  want 
your  bills  made  out  also,  at  the  end  of  the 
months?" 

"  O,  aye !  Master  Jack,  that's  one  of  my 
great  troubles  ;  some  of  me  customers  says  they 


102       TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

can't  quite  make  out  me  writin',  and  some  says 
they  don't  know  how  much  ice  I've  left  'em  and 
so,  whiles  and  agen,  there's  quite  a  little  worry 
about  it  all.  Could  you  manage  to  do  it  all  fur 
me,  Master  Jack  dear  ?  " 

"  I  can  manage  the  accounts,  Tim,  I  feel  sure 
about  that,  for  as  I  told  you  before,  mother 
would  overlook  them  for  me,  but  I  should 
want  something  very  different  from  ice  in  re- 
turn —  something  you  may  not  care  to  give." 
"  Let's  hear  what  it  is,  Master  Jack." 
"  I  want  a  man  to  help  me  in  the  garden.  I 
am  bound  to  have  everything  fine  for  father 
when  he  comes  back,  everything  growing,  not 
a  weed  to  be  seen,  and  the  fruit  well  taken  care 
of.  Now,  if  you  feel  like  giving  me  a  helping 
hand  at  this  work,  I  would  be  glad  to  keep 
your  accounts  and  do  my  very  best  with  them. 
Father  always  felt  sorry  when  you  gave  up 
gardening,  for  he  said  you  were  worth  two 
other  men  in  the  spring,  because  you  under- 
stood just   what   he   wanted.     Mother  has  no 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.       103 

money  to  spare  and  I  have  to  find  some  way 
of  getting  the  work  done  without  paying  cash 
for  it." 

"  How  much  time  would  you  expect  me  to 
give,  Master  Jack  ?  " 

"  Just  what  you  would  think  right  yourself, 
Tim  ;  what  you  feel  was  a  fair  exchange  for 
what  I  would  have  to  do  for  you." 

"  You  wouldn't  expect  me  reg'lar  every  day, 
would  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  bless  your  heart,  no,  Tim ;  only  to  lend 
a  hand  when  you  saw  it  was  needed,  and  after 
the  planting  was  done,  to  tell  me  what  to  do. 
I  don't  know  even  which  are  the  best  seeds  nor 
when  to  sow  them." 

"  Well,  it's  a  bargain,"  said  Tim,  with  a  sigh 
of  relief.  "  I  can  find  time  when  I'm  done  wid 
the  ice-delivery,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I'd 
rather  dig  up  every  foot  of  the  whole  place 
than  worry  wid  them  figures ;  it's  the  hardest 
work  I  ever  did  in  my  life.  And  whatever 
you  do,  don't  buy  musk-melon  seed,  for  I  have 


104       TIM    KELLY     WANTS    A    HOOK-KEEPER. 

just  the  kind  your  father  likes,  and  I   tell  you 
when  he  comes  back  it  will  go  hard  if  we  don't 


"  WELL,    IT'S   A    BARGAIN,"    SAID   TIM. 

find  a  bit  of  ice  to  cool  them  for  his  breakfast. 
1  know  just  how  he  likes  them." 

A  great  weight  was  lifted  from  Jack's  mind, 
as  Tim  turned  without  further  parley  and  took 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.       105 

a  professional  look  at  the  garden,  pointing  out 
where  this  and  that  ought  to  be  planted. 

Jack  still  held  what  Tim  called  "me  account 

0 

book,"  and  Tim  suddenly  catching  sight  of  it, 
exclaimed  with  nervous  alarm,  "  O,  Master 
Jack!  give  me  the  book,  please;  it's  worry 
enough  as  it  is,  and  whatever  should  I  do  if  I 
lost  it  ?  " 

"  Let  me  have  it  until  Tuesday,  Tim,  and 
then  I  think  you  will  find  things  are  easier  to 
understand,  and  after  that  I  shall  have  to  have 
an  account  every  day  of  what  you  buy  and 
sell,  so  that  we  may  be  sure  not  to  make  mis- 
takes. I  will  be  very  careful,"  he  added,  as 
Tim's  anxious  eyes  remained  fixed  on  his 
treasure  ;  "  it  will  be  quite  safe  with  me." 

"  Well,  Master  Jack,  I  hope  you'll  remember 
that  it's  awful  important,  and  if  you  would 
please  say  that  Mis'  Paxson  had  half  a  peck 
russets,  on  Tuesday;  I  forgot  to  put  them 
down.     Twenty  cents,  please,  Master  Jack." 

Bidding  Tim  good-by  at  the  gate,  he  came 


106       TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

at  a  tearing  pace  back  to  the  kitchen. 
"Mammy  dear,  here's  a  jolly  piece  of  luck! 
Tim  Kelly  is  going  to  make  garden  forme  and 
J  am  going  to  keep  his  accounts  to  pay  for  it. 
We  won't  have  to  pay  one  cent ;  what  do  you 
think  of  that  for  a  stroke  of  business,  Mrs. 
Brereton,  ma'am  ?  "  he  said,  imitating  Tim  and 
making  a  low  bow. 

Mrs.  Brereton  smiled,  but  her  eyes  were  full 
of  tears.  She  kissed  Jack's  joyous  face  with 
a  tenderness  which  surprised  him.  He  had  no 
feeling  but  one  of  great  exultation  and  could 
not  fathom  the  depths  of  his  mother's  heart, 
or  imagine  the  pride  with  which  she  looked  on 
her  energetic  helpful  boy,  and  was  farther  still 
from  finding  any  clue  to  the  gratitude  she  felt 
for  the  unselfish  delight  with  which  he  under- 
took this  new  and  perplexing  work,  without  one 
thought  of  the  labor  it  would  entail  upon  himself. 

"  You  are  a  great  manager,  son ;  father  will 
be  astonished  when  he  comes  home  to  find 
wThat  you  can  do  !  " 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.       107 

"  Well,  this  time,  I  have  not  done  anything 
but  talk  to  Tim,  mother  dear.  We  will  know 
better  what  I  am  worth  when  the  time  comes 
to  show  father  the  garden.  But  I  tell  you  one 
thing  that  makes  me  feel  very  strange ;  every- 
thing I  have  asked  God  to  give  me  since  father 
went  away,  has  come  right  to  me."  Jack 
blushed  crimson  as  he  thus  laid  bare  his  heart. 
"  I  just  prayed  for  work,  as  hard  as  I  could, 
and  there  came  Mr.  Holtin's  right  off,  and  I 
did  ask  Him  so  earnestly,  to  be  able  to  keep 
everything  nice  here,  for  that's  the  duty  father 
ordered  me  to  do  —  you  know  he  did  not  say  a 
word  about  my  trying  to  earn  money — and  I 
was  so  troubled  because  I  saw  I  could  not  pos- 
sibly get  on  without  help,  and  here  comes  the 
most  unlikely  thing  in  the  world  to  make  it  all 
right.  Poor  Tim!  you  will  just  kill  yourself 
laughing  over  his  book." 

The  tears  which  had  at  first  dimmed, 
now  overflowed  the  happy  mother's  eyes. 
Jack   in   blank   astonishment   saw   them   fall. 


108       TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter,  mother  ?  "  he  asked 
quickly. 

"  Don't  mind  the  tears,  Jack,  I  am  only  too 
thankful  for  the  help  given  you,  and  still  more 
grateful  to  know  that  you  are  trusting  to  God 
so  fully  to  guide  you,  but  some  day,  when  you 
ask  and  do  not  receive,  dear,  you  must  not  grow 
discouraged.  That  is  the  hard  time  for  us  all, 
especially  for  a  young  lad  like  you.  No  prayer 
is  lost,  no  cry  for  help  is  ever  unheard.  When 
our  Heavenly  Father  keeps  an  awful  silence 
and  seems  so  far  away,  then,  Jack,  remember 
these  days,  and  trust  on  just  the  same;  you  will 
get  an  answer  some  day." 

Jack  was  suddenly  sobered  and  could  not 
follow  his  mother's  eager  words,  nor  under- 
stand her  fond  and  intent  look  at  him.  «  Well, 
perhaps  these  were  right  things  to  ask  for,  and 
so  they  came,"  he  said  timidly. 

"  The  prayer  which  asks  for  things  in  them- 
selves undoubtedly  right,  may  yet  seem  not  to 
be  answered,  and    there   is  where  it  tries  our 


TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER.       109 

faith  so  severely,  my  darling  son.  I  do  not  for 
a  moment  doubt  that  your  blessings  have  come 
to  you  in  quick  response  from  your  Heavenly 
Father's  loving  hand,  and  I  am  rejoiced  to 
think  so.  Only  I  want  you  to  remember,  Jack, 
that  under  all  circumstances  He  hears  and 
blesses,  surely  blesses  us,  dear,  even  when  we 
seem  to  be  denied  all  we  ask  and  nothing 
comes  as  we  desire  to  have  it." 

Jack,  quite  unable  to  grasp  all  his  mother's 
meaning,  edged  off  from  the  solemn  subject 
thus  suddenly  brought  before  him,  and  drawing 
her  into  a  chair  threw  his  arm  over  her  shoul- 
der and  held  up  Tim's  book  for  her  inspection. 
They  wandered  through  its  few  pages,  laugh- 
ing more  and  more  as  they  went  on,  most  of 
all  over  a  most  complicated  system  of  ex- 
changes between  Tim  and  the  keeper  of  the 
village  "  store,"  but  it  soon  became  easy  to  see 
a  thread  of  separation  by  which  Jack's  future 
work  could  be  guided. 

An  airing  for  the  little  girls  and  a  few  visits 


110       TIM    KELLY    WANTS    A    BOOK-KEEPER. 

from  the  neighbors,  concluded  the  record  of 
tli is  first  day  of  a  week,  which  proved  a  very 
busy  one  for  Jack. 

Days  flew  by  like  hours.  Tim  worked 
bravely  in  the  garden  and  he  and  Jack  gave 
every  afternoon  to  it,  so  that  on  the  next  Satur- 
day peas  and  radishes  and  early  spinach  were 
all  duly  planted  and  ground  was  ready  for 
potatoes.  And  as  for  the  accounts,  when  Tim 
found  himself  possessed  of  three  neat  looking 
little  books  each  devoted  to  a  separate  interest, 
and  a  fourth,  which  acted  as  a  ledger,  summing 
up  his  week's  transactions,  and  in  which  he 
could  read  plainly  just  what  had  been  done,  he 
felt  that  the  miracle  which  brought  the  earth 
out  of  chaos,  had  been  outdone,  and  that  noth- 
ing was  too  much  for  him  to  do  for  Master 
Jack. 

Jack's  surprises  were  not  yet  at  an  end,  and 
before  long  he  met  one  at  the  post-office. 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

RETURNING  from  Mr.  Holtin's  on  Satur- 
day, Jack  stopped  to  make  his  usual  in- 
quiry at  the  post-office.  The  postmaster  shook 
his  head:  "No  letter,  Jack,  I'm  sorry  to  say. 
I  suppose  your  mother  would  love  to  have  a 
letter  to  think  over  to-morrow,  for  Sundays 
are  lonesome  days  when  one's  folks  is  away ; 
but  if  I  ain't  got  a  letter,  I  have  got  a  piece  of 
news  for  you  that  I  think  will  please  you. 
How  would  you  like  to  take  Mr.  Thornton's 
mail  up  to  Thornhill  every  day  ?  He  don't 
fancy  driving  this  way  every  time  he  goes 
out,  and  it  takes  so  much  time  to  send  a 
man  on  purpose  that  he  wants  a  trustworthy 
lad  to   carry  the   mail   up   and    down,  twice 

a  day." 

Ill 


112  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

"What  will  he  pay?" 

"  Twenty-five  cents  a  trip  —  half  a  dollar  a 
day  ;  three  dollars  a  week  ain't  to  be  despised, 
Jack,  and  it's  all  clear  profit." 

Jack  hesitated  and  thought.  Three  dollars 
a  week;  three  and  two  are  five.  Delightful 
thought !  Five  dollars  a  week,  twenty  dollars 
a  month,  all  from  his  own  work.  Mother  and 
he  between  them  could  save  money. 

u  What  are  you  thinking  about,  my  boy  ?  " 
questioned  the  postmaster. 

"  How  I  can  manage  it,"  said  Jack. 

"  Oh  !  that's  it,  is  it  ?  My  wife  thought  you 
wouldn't  like  going  up  there,  '  like  a  messenger 
boy,'  as  she  called  it,  but  I  knew  you  had  no 
such  nonsense  about  you,  ever  since  I  seen  you 
take  hold  of  Mr.  Holtin's  wrork,  the  way  you 
did,  the  very  day  after  your  father  left.  What 
else  have  you  got  to  do  ?  " 

u  Mr.  Holtin's  work  comes  before  school,  and 
then  in  the  afternoons  I  am  very  busy  in  the 
garden,  and  then  there  are  all  the  odd  jobs,  like 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN.  113 

wood  and  water  and  chickens  and  everything, 
and  then  I  keep  Tim  Kelly's  books,  and  my 
lessons  have  to  come  in  sometime.  What 
time  do  they  want  the  mail  ?" 

«  They  want  the  eight  o'clock  mail  to  get  there 
before  nine,  and  the  five  o'clock  before  six." 

It  was  but  a  little  over  a  mile  up  the  road, 
yet  it  meant  four  additional  miles  a  day  and 
great  regularity  and  punctuality.  Jack  held 
out  his  hand  to  the  funny-looking  old  post- 
master, who  stood  behind  the  counter  without 
any  coat  and  with  his  "  far-sighted  spectacles  " 
pushed  high  upon  his  forehead,  looking  intently 
at  the  hesitating  boy.  "  Thank  you,  sir,"  he 
said,  "  you  were  very  kind  to  think  of  me  ;  I'll 
try  it  for  a  week,  any  way.  If  I  can't  do  it 
properly,  I  daresay  you  can  easily  find  some 
one  else." 

"  Lots  of  boys,  Jack,  lots  of  'em ;  but  letters 
are  not  to  be  trifled  with,  and  the  Thornhill  mail 
is  full  of  valuable  papers,  and  I  hain't  found 
many  responsible  boys  'round  here,  yet." 


114 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 


Proud  as  this  made  him,  Jack  still  looked  at 
this  new  business  very  seriously,  for,  somehow, 
rest  had  been  very  acceptable  lately,  when  he 
came  out  of  the  garden  toward  sundown,  and 
he  fully  understood  that  four  miles  a  day  would 
be  quite  a  long  pull,  when  he  was  both  busy 
and  tired ;  but  by  the  time  he  reached  home, 
pleasure  at  the  additional  pay  became  para- 
mount and  he  was  glad  to  have  this  bit  of 
news  to  tell  when  he  came  home  from  the 
office  empty-handed. 

"More  work,  Jack?  I  hardly  see  how  you 
can  do  it,  dear !  A  steady  pull  of  four  miles  a 
day,  in  hot  weather,  is  not  to  be  thought  lightly 
of,  when  you  have  so  much  else  to  do." 

"  We'll  try  it  any  way,  mammy  dear.  If  I 
was  not  working,  I  should  very  likely  be  play- 
ing ball  and  running  all  the  afternoon.  If  I 
don't  wear  out  too  many  shoes,  I  think  it  will 
come  out  all  right.  What  I  am  scary  about  is 
my  plagued  old  Ca>sar  ;  I  am  afraid  study  hour 
will  find  me  pretty  sleepy.     But,  anyhow,  it 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 


115 


will  do  no  harm  to  try,  and  twenty  dollars  a 
month  is  a  jolly  thing  to  have." 

So  thenceforth,  Jack  might  be  seen  at  the 
appointed  hour,  jogging  along  at  a  pace  half- 
trot,  half-run,  which  he  had  learned  to  keep 
down  to  a  reasonable  speed  and  which  carried 
him  rapidly  over  the  hilly  road.  There  were 
two  small  bags  with  straps,  which  he  carried 
alternately,  handing  one  in  and  receiving  the 
other,  often  without  the  exchange  of  a  word 
with  the  man  who  took  them  at  the  door. 

Saturdays  were  his  hardest  days.  In  order 
to  be  on  time  with  the  morning  mail,  Jack 
had  to  go  an  hour  earlier  to  Mr.  Holtin's ;  he 
was  often  busy  with  his  rake  at  six  o'clock,  and 
it  sometimes  occurred  that  even  then,  after 
leaving  Thornhill,  he  had  to  return  to  com- 
plete his  task.  Mr.  Holtin  was  very  kind,  and 
willing  to  do  all  he  could  to  make  things  easy 
and  aid  Jack's  ceaseless  endeavor,  but  the  work 
had  to  be  done,  and  all  he  could  do  to  help 
was  to  leave  the  boy  to  finish  it  as  he  could. 


116  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

Take  one  clay  with  another,  it  became  a 
mechanical  and  uninteresting  tramp,  in  the 
summer  heat  and  dust,  and  though  Jack 
whistled,  and  even  sang  a  little  when  he  had 
time  enough  not  to  hurry  his  breath  away,  and 
kept  his  eyes  open  for  such  cheery  little  glimpses 
of  the  domestic  life  of  the  birds  and  the  squir- 
rels as  they  would  let  him  see,  yet  he  did  not 
find  it  an  easy  way  to  earn  fifty  cents  a  day. 

One  Saturday,  however,  brought  an  unlooked- 
for  break  in  the  monotony  of  these  goings  and 
comings,  which  in  its  outcome  gave  him  great 
pleasure. 

Going  up  the  shady  walk  to  Mr.  Thornton's 
house,  with  his  steady,  swinging  stride,  he  was 
checked  by  a  loud  whistle  coming  from  a  clump 
of  trees  on  the  lawn  where  some  ladies  and 
gentlemen  were  sitting  under  the  pleasant 
shelter.  "  This  way,  boy,"  called  out  a  strong 
voice ;  "  bring  the  mail  here." 

Jack  turned  toward  them  immediately,  but 
did   not  unstrap  his  bag.     A  gentleman   held 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN.  117 

out  his  hand;  Jack's *hot  face  grew  very  red, 
and  the  perspiration  on  his  forehead,  already 
uncomfortably  abundant,  seemed  to  issue  from 
every  pore  like  water. 

He  took  off  his  straw  hat  courteously  and 
asked,  "  Are  you  Mr.  Thornton,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  not  Mr.  Thornton ;  he  has  gone  to 
New  York  for  the  day,  but  I'll  take  the  mail." 

"  Are  any  of  the  family  here  ?  "  again  asked 
Jack,  growing  painfully  embarrassed  and  still 
leaving  the  bag  strapped  over  his  shoulder. 

"  No,  no ;  we  are  only  friends  of  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton's, but  that  makes  no  difference  ;  it's  all 
right ;  give  me.  the  bag,  and  I'll  take  care 
of  it." 

The  boy's  heart  beat  like  an  engine  throb : 
"  I  am  very  sorry,  sir,  but  I  can't.  I  have  posi- 
tive orders  not  to  give  it  to  any  one  but  Michael 
at  the  door,  unless  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Thornton  take 
it  from  me.  I  made  a  promise  never  to  let 
any  one  else  take  it,  and  I  could  not  possibly 
do  it." 


118  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

"  Can't  you  take  my  word  that  it  will  be  all 
right,  you  little  fool?"  said  the  gentleman,  ris- 
ing in  hot  anger.  "  1  have  a  letter  in  that  bag 
which  I  am  very  anxious  to  get,  and  you  don't 
suppose  I  am  going  to  wait  until  Mr.  Thornton 
gets  back  from  New  York,  do  you?  Here," 
and  he  took  hold  of  the  strap  very  roughly, 
"be  done  with  your  nonsense  and  give  me  the 
bag ;  don't  behave  like  an  idiot ! " 

Jack's  childhood  did  not  lie  far  behind  him, 
and  tears  were  trying  hard  to  drop  from  his 
eyes,  though  he  winked  violently  and  hid  them 
bravely,  and  he  trembled  with  angry  excite- 
ment. "  If  you  take  it  by  force,  sir,"  he  said, 
"  I  cannot  help  it,  but  I  will  not  give  it  to  you." 

The  tall  man  jerked  the  strap  over  the  boy's 
curly  head,  knocking  off  his  hat ;  but  he  was 
baffled  ;  the  bag  was  locked  !  "  Thornton  must 
think  his  mail  very  precious,"  he  exclaimed, 
and  turning  to  the  ladies  he  said  in  a  different, 
but  still  angry  tone  :  "  What  on  earth  are  we 
to  do  now?" 


"if   yot:   take   it   by    force, 


SAID    JACK. 


CANNOT     HELP     IT," 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN.  121 

Jack's  impulse  was  to  laugh  at  his  defeat, 
and,  truth  to  say,  he  did  enjoy  it,  but  he  had 
himself  well  in  hand  by  this  time,  and  an  in- 
stinct of  courtesy  to  the  sweet,  sad-looking  lady 
who  answered  his  assailant  made  him  listen  at- 
tentively to  her  reply. 

"  It  is  hard  to  bear,"  she  said ;  "  but  I  must 
try  to  wait  patiently." 

"  I  will  go  and  find  Michael,"  said  Jack ; 
"he  has  a  key  and  may  have  permission  to 
open  it." 

"  Oh !  you  are  growing  more  civil,  are  you  ?  " 
said  the  exasperated  man.  "  Why  did  you  not 
tell  us  this  before  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude,  sir,"  said  Jack, 
steadily,  "  I  was  only  trying  to  do  my  duty.  I 
will  get  Michael,  for  the  lady,  at  once." 

"  Here,  take  the  bag  with  you,  and  ask  if 
there  are  any  letters  for  Mrs.  Trevor !  Hurry 
up,  now." 

Jack  found  it  hard  to  stoop  and  pick  up  the 
bag  thrown  violently  toward  him,  and   when 


122  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

he  did  lift  it,  his  chief  desire  was  to  take  de- 
liberate aim  and  show  his  tormentor  the  skill 
of  the  best  pitcher  in  the  school  nine ;  but  he 
had  Grained  a  <n*eat  deal  of  self-control  since  he 
had  begun  to  do  a  soldier's  duty,  and  he  caught 
up  the  contested  mail  and  went  at  "double 
quick  "  toward  the  house. 

On  the  piazza,  stretched  on  a  wicker  lounge, 
a  gentleman  lay  at  full  length,  reading  a  paper. 
Jack  sincerely  hoped  he  would  not  notice  him, 
for  he  was  anything  but  ready  for  another 
struggle  over  his  charge ;  he  therefore  neither 
looked  to  the  right  nor  left,  but  stepped  rapidly 
to  the  door  and  rang  the  bell  as  usual.  But 
the  carrier  of  the  post,  be  he  man  or  boy,  is  al- 
ways an  object  of  interest;  to  Jack's  dismay 
the  reclining  figure  lifted  itself  up  quickly,  and 
a  pair  of  long  legs  extended  themselves  to  the 
floor  of  the  veranda,  the  paper  was  dropped, 
and  the  gentleman  sat  upright,  astride  of  the 
wicker  lounge. 

"  What  is  it,  my  lad  ?     Whom  did  you  wish 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAX. 


123 


to  see?     Oh!  I  see,  you  have  the  mail;  I'll 
take  it." 

Jack's  heart  sank,  but  the  voice  had  no  flavor 
of  the  haughty  command  of  his  late  adversary, 
so  he  took  courage,  and  lifting  his  hat,  he  said, 
respectfully  :  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I 
am  not  allowed  to  give  it  to  any  one  but 
Michael  or  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thornton." 

«  Oh !  I  see,  and  quite  right,  too  ;  Thornton 
has  very  important  and  valuable  papers  coming 
to  him  quite  frequently,  and  indeed,  I  think  you 
are  rather  young  for  the  responsibility;  but  here 
is  Michael." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Jack,  and  turned  with 
immense  relief  to  deliver  the  troublesome  bag 
to  the  approaching  man. 

His  business-like  way  of  performing  his  task, 
and  his  punctual  appearance  in  all  weathers 
had  won  Michael's  regard  ;  he  was  a  very  im- 
portant functionary  in  a  very  fine  establishment, 
and  he  showed  his  liking  for  the  boy  in  a  very 
patronizing  manner.    "  What's  the  matter,  post- 


124 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 


man  ?"  he  said  good-naturedly;  «  I  never  knew 
you  to  be  five  minutes  late  before.  What 
happened  to  you  ?" 

"  A  gentleman  under  the  trees  by  the  gate 
stopped  me,  and  when  I  told  him  I  was  for- 
bidden to  give  up  the  bag,  he  snatched  it  from 
me  and  was  very  angry  when  he  found  it  was 
locked." 

"  Oh  !  it's  that  fine  Mr.  Maddox,  showing  off 
before  poor  Mrs.  Trevor ;  she  is  crazy  to  hear 
from  her  boy  who  is  sick  in  France,  and  he  has 
his  own  reasons  for  trying  to  please  her.  Did 
he  hurt  you  ?  " 

"O,  no!  he  was  only  a  little  rough.  It 
frightened  me  pretty  badly  to  have  to  give  up 
the  bag,  because  I  had  promised  faithfully  not 
to,  and  I  did  not  know  but  what  harm  mio-ht 
come  from  it ;  but  I  was  not  hurt.  But,  Michael, 
do  please  see  if  the  lady  has  any  letter  ;  I  ran 
up  to  ask  you,  she  looked  so  sad  and  patient. 
And  would  you  please  take  it  to  her  yourself, 
Michael ;  for,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  if  that  gentle- 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN.  125 

man  spoke  to  me  again  in  the  way  he  did  before, 
I  don't  think  I  could  help  saying  something 
pretty  lively  in  return.  I  had  hard  work  to 
keep  in,  I  tell  you." 

The  gentleman  sitting  on  the  lounge  now 
rose  and  came  close  to  where  they  stood,  and 
Michael,  for  the  first  time  aware  of  his  presence, 
turned  back  to  fetch  the  return  mail  bag  from 
the  library. 

« I  have  been  listening  to  your  conversation, 
my  boy,  and  I  want  you  to  know  that  I  think 
you  have  behaved  uncommonly  well  for  a 
youngster  of  your  years.  I  will  see  that  Mr. 
Thornton  understands  how  true  you  have  been 
to  your  trust,  and  I  shall  congratulate  him 
not  only  on  having  a  faithful  messenger  in 
his  employment,  but  one  who  is  at  heart  a 
gentleman." 

Jack  felt  a  strange  something  rise  suddenly 
from  some  unknown  region  in  his  chest  and 
apparently  try  to  get  into  his  mouth ;  then  he 
suddenly  developed  a  queer  tendency  to  wipe 


126  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his  hand;  but  without 
stopping  to  inquire  what  was  wrong  with  him- 
self, he  said  eagerly :  "  Oh !  thank  you,  sir, 
I  am  awfully  glad  you  think  I  did  right.  I 
hardly  knew  what  to  do,  but  as  long  as  my 
orders  were  positive,  I  had  to  try  my  best  to 
obey  them." 

His  new  friend  all  at  once  began  to  look  at 
him  in  a  very  inquiring  way,  and  then  ex- 
claimed :  "  Why,  who  are  you  ?  What  is  your 
name  ?  " 

"  Jack  Brereton." 

"  Oh  !  that's  who  you  are.  I  was  sure  I  had 
some  association  with  your  face.  So  you  were 
the  boy  who  was  i  mustered  in '  as  a  home 
guard,  when  your  father  went  away  with  his 
regiment?" 

"And  you,"  said  Jack,  eagerly,  "are  Chris. 
Roberts  !  Oh !  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Roberts. 
I  thought  I  knew  you,  but  you  had  your  hat 
on  that  day  in  the  cars,  and  "  —  Jack  stopped 
and  blushed. 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN.  127 

«  You  did  not  know  that  I  was  bald  !  Out 
with  it,  Jack." 

«  Yes,  sir,  that  was  it ;  and  I  was  so  tearing 
mad  when  I  came  up  the  steps  that  I  didn't 
notice  your  face  much." 

"How  did  you  know  my  christian  name?" 
«  Father  told  me  not  to  forget  it.  You  said 
in  joke  that  day,  if  I  needed  reinforcements  I 
was  to  send  for  you,  and  father  said  I  must 
not  forget  your  name,  for  although  you  spoke 
in  fun,  you  really  meant  that  if  I  was  in  trouble, 
you  would  help  me." 

«  And  so  I  did,  Jack,  and  so  I  do.  Tell  me 
how  things  are  going  at  home  now." 

Jack  would  gladly  have  answered  at  length, 
but  the  clock  in  the  hall  struck  the  half-hour 
and  he  started  with  surprise.  "  I  must  go,  Mr. 
Roberts"  he  said  regretfully;  "I  have  over- 
stayed my  time,  and  1  shall  be  late  for  the 
down  mail." 

He  was  darting  off,  when  Mr.  Roberts  called 
after  him : 


128  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

a  Wait  one  minute  more  and  I'll  go  with 
you ;  1  only  want  my  hat  and  stick." 

"  I  shall  have  to  run,  sir." 

"I  have  not  entirely  forgotten  that  accom- 
plishment, Jack ;  come  on  now,  and  let  us  take 
a  pace  we  can  keep,  and  we  will  talk  after  we 
have  delivered  the  letters." 

So  on  they  went,  the  big  white-flanneled 
man  renewing  his  athletic  days,  and  thin-legged 
Jack  well  up  beside  him,  with  never  a  word 
said  between  them  until  they  caught  sight  of 
the  old  postmaster  looking  anxiously  up  the 
road,  with  the  mail  pouch  in  his  hand. 

"  Well  done,  Jack,"  said  Mr.  Roberts,  rub- 
bing away  vigorously  at  his  face  and  bald  head. 
"That  was  a  steady  pull  for  us  both.  Jack  is 
not  to  blame,  Postmaster,"  he  added  kindly ; 
"  they  detained  him  at  Thornhill.  He  is  a  first- 
class  postman,  I  can  testify." 

The  friendly  old  man  smiled  and  said  dryly : 
"  We  are  well  acquainted  with  Jack  in  Rure- 
mont."    Then  he  locked  his  pouch  with  evident 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN.  129 

satisfaction  and  put  it  in  position  for  "  the  fast 
limited,"  now  heard  thundering  along  a  mile 
up  the  road. 

As  soon  as  they  had  rested  long  enough  to 
regain  their  exhausted  breath,  Mr.  Roberts  said : 
"  And  now  I  want  to  go  home  with  you,  Jack, 
if  you  will  have  me  for  a  companion.  I  want  to 
see  how  you  are  doing  your  duty  at  your  home- 
post,  and  to  be  introduced  to  your  mother.  You 
will  have  to  imagine  me  a  government  inspector." 

Jack  was  not  sure  that  his  mother  would  be 
wholly  pleased  to  see  this  stranger  walking  in 
unexpectedly,  but  he  felt  the  warmth  of  his 
kindness  deeply,  and  courtesy  could  do  no  less 
than  bid  him  come  and  welcome.  And  as  they 
walked  on,  Mr.  Roberts  drew  out  all  the  details 
of  the  boy's  busy,  energetic  life,  without  ap- 
pearing either  inquisitive  or  unduly  curious. 
They  seemed  by  mutual  attraction  to  get  on 
thoroughly  well  together,  and  Jack  spoke  as 
openly  and  freely  as  if  they  had  been  friends 
for  years. 


130  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

"  Take  it  altogether  you  lead  a  pretty  active 
life  of  it,  don't  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  I  have  to  keep  going,"  laughed  the 
boy,  "  but  I  enjoy  myself  very  much.  You  see 
everything  is  like  a  sort  of  a  play;  something 
new  is  coming  out  of  it  all  the  time.  The 
money  I  earn  goes  a  long  way  towards  keep- 
ing things  straight,  and  I  do  so  enjoy  receiving 
it  and  handing  it  over  to  mother.  Then  Tim 
Kelly's  accounts  are  just  like  a  joke  book,  and 
keep  me  roaring;  and  as  to  the  garden,  why, 
I  daresay  you  know  how  it  is  about  a  garden, 
yourself.  There  is  always  something  unex- 
pected happening  to  surprise  you,  and  you  are 
always  either  frightened  to  death  for  fear  some- 
thing is  going  to  die,  or  else  perfectly  delighted 
to  find  something  coming  on  splendidly  that  you 
did  not  think  would  live.  It's  awfully  interest- 
ing, and  the  chickens  are  just  pure  fun.  You 
must  see  my  Plymouth  Rock  rooster,  Captain 
Bragg  ;  he's  as  funny  as  the  clown  in  a  circus. 
I  must  be  sure  to  show  you  old  Captain  Bragg!  " 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 


131 


Mr.  Roberts  looked  at  his  young  companion 
with  an  interest  that  grew  more  earnest  and 
even  affectionate  each  moment.  A  boy  too 
busy  ever  to  find  a  playtime,  yet  entirely  con- 
tented ;  carrying  heavy  responsibilities  without 
feeling  their  weight,  because  of  the  strength  of 
his  unselfish  wish  to  aid  his  mother  and  serve 
his  absent  father ;  merry  and  bright  as  a  boy 
could  be,  yet  full  of  deep  feeling;  such  lads 
were  not  found  every  day,  and  the  old  post- 
master's half-cynical  objection  to  be  told  of 
Jack's  merits,  recurred  to  his  memory.  No 
wonder  he  was  "well  known  about  Rure- 
mont ! " 

When  they  reached  the  gate,  Jack  asked 
Mr.  Roberts  to  let  him  run  forward  and  tell 
his  mother,  and  he  found  her  just  in  the  midst 
of  sweeping  the  dining-room.  The  little  par- 
lor, cool  and  shady,  was  in  lovely  order,  and 
Jack  gave  a  quick  glance  at  his  mother  and 
thought  she  looked  as  pretty  as  he  had  ever 
seen  her,  with  the  flush  of  her  active  exercise 


132  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

brightening  her  cheeks,  which  nowadays  were 
apt  to  lack  color. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  "  Mr.  Roberts,  a  friend 
of  father's,  wants  to  see  you." 

"Has  he  brought  any  bad  news?"  she  ques- 
tioned nervously. 

"  No,  indeed ;  no  news  at  all ;  he  just  came 
down  with  me  from  Thornhill.  I  met  him  in 
the  cars  the  day  father  went  away." 

Further  explanation  was  impossible,  for  Mr. 
Roberts'  footsteps  were  heard  upon  the  ver- 
anda, and  Jack  had  left  the  door  open.  Lay- 
ing her  broom  quickly  out  of  her  hand  and 
pulling  off  one  glove,  Mrs.  Brereton  advanced 
to  meet  the  handsome  and  dignified  man  who 
stood  at  the  threshold.  They  advanced  to- 
gether and  he  met  her  more  than  half-way, 
and  his  cordial  greeting  warmed  her  heart  and 
disarmed  her  embarrassment  at  once. 

"  Forgive  me,  Mrs.  Brereton,  for  intruding 
upon  you  in  this  way,  but  the  pleasure  of 
Jack's  company  beguiled  me,  and  I  have  en- 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 


133 


joyed  our  long  walk  very  much.  Your  hus- 
band told  me  on  the  day  he  left,  of  his  muster- 
ing Jack  in  as  your  body-guard  and  of  his 
duties  here,  and  1  have  come  to  inspect  the 
post." 

The  little  girls  were  taking  their  morning 
nap  and  Mrs.  Brereton,  for  a  wonder,  was  un- 
interrupted and  found  great  pleasure  in  the 
bright  cheerfulness  and  cultivated  intelligence 
of  her  visitor.  She  ventured  to  ask  his  opinion 
of  the  outlook  of  the  war  an<J  found  he  did 
not  share  the  bright  hopes  of  the  newspaper 
prophets,  nor  had  he  any  sympathy  with  the 
fashion  of  the  hour  to  make  light  of  the  struggle 
and  disparage  the  courage  and  endurance  of  the 
South.  She  was  induced  by  his  unusually 
frank  and  interested  manner  to  speak  far  more 
freely  than  was  common  with  her,  and  enjoyed 
the  intercourse  with  a  mind  which  reminded 
her  strongly  of  her  husband's. 

Jack  being  absent  for  a  short  time,  he  praised 
the  boy  with  almost  affectionate   earnestness. 


134  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

Mrs.  Brereton's  eyes  filled  with  pleasant  tears, 
but  she  said  gravely  : 

"  Promise  me,  Mr.  Roberts,  that  you  will  not 
give  a  hint  of  all  this  to  my  boy.  What  I 
value  most  in  the  whole  matter  is  his  entire 
unconsciousness  of  his  own  merits  and  the  de- 
lightful simplicity  with  which  he  continually 
adds  to  his  own  burdens,  and  seizes  every  pos- 
sible means  of  aiding  his  father  without  one 
thought  of  himself." 

"  I  have  many  things  belonging  to  me,"  said 
the  kind  rich  man,  "  of  which  my  neighbors 
may  be  envious,  but  I  covet  Jack,  and  bachelor 
as  I  am,  I  can  hardly  see  how  Brereton  tore 
himself  away  from  his  home ;  it  wras  a  tremen- 
dous sacrifice." 

Jack  here  entered,  impatient  of  the  long 
grave  talk.  "  Mr.  Roberts,"  he  said,  "  Captain 
Bragg  has  been  crowing  for  half  an  hour  call- 
ing you  to  admire  him,  and  you  have  not  seen 
the  garden  yet." 

Mr.    Roberts    immediately    rose,    evidently 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 


135 


pleased  at  what  his  mother  felt  might  seem 
too  free  and  easy  a  tone,  and  began  at  once  a 
close  inspection  of  the  premises.  First,  he 
looked  at  the  clean  and  well-stocked  poultry 
yard,  gave  Captain  Bragg  his  meed  of  praise, 
and  appeared  as  much  interested  in  small 
fruits  as  any  professional  gardener.  Jack 
would  have  been  amazed  had  he  known  how 
little  his  friend  understood  about  what  he  so 
judiciously  admired. 

The  strawberries  promised  a  great  crop,  the 
cherries  hung  thick  on  the  trees,  and  the  cur- 
rant bushes  were  fringed  with  delicate  green 
berries.  "  What  a  lot  of  fruit  you  have,  Jack ; 
what  will  you  do  with  it  all  ?  " 

"  I  am  trying  to  arrange  to  sell  it  at  the  post- 
office,  but  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  get  a  fair 
price  that  way.  Somehow  or  other  I  am  bound 
to  get  a  <  fiver '  out  of  them  for  the  big  fund." 

Mr.  Roberts'  well-filled  purse  felt  uncomfort- 
ably heavy  in  his  pocket,  and  he  longed  to  open 
it  and  give  the  eager  boy  at  once  more  than 


136  JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 

all  his  hard  work  could  earn  in  the  length  of 
the  season  ;  but  respect  for  his  manliness  and 
something  like  envy  for  the  lad's  delightful  ex- 
perience in  his  modest  success,  held  back  his 
hand.  He  thought  of  all  the  commonplace 
ways  of  playing  benefactor:  money  given  to 
the  little  girls;  a  bank-note  left  half -hidden 
by  a  book  on  Mrs.  Brereton's  work  table,  but 
his  better  judgment  said  "  No "  to  each  in 
turn.  It  would  lower  the  beauty  of  their 
faithful,  unselfish  lives  to  put  them  in  this 
position.  "Their  loving  self-denial  is  what 
sustains  this  sweet  mother  and  her  proud  boy 
in  their  lives  of  labor,  and  it  would  mar  all  to 
make  them  recipients  of  such  gifts  as  these. 
A  darker  hour  may  come,  when  aid  may  be 
necessary,  and  I  will  bide  my  time,"  he  said  to 
himself. 

With  a  big  pansy  in  his  buttonhole,  he  re- 
turned to  the  house,  where,  to  Jack's  great  re- 
lief and  pleasure,  Mrs.  Brereton  had  prepared 
a  delicate  lunch,  which  she  had  served  upon  a 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN.  137 

tray  beside  the  open  window  in  the  parlor. 
His  hospitable  heart  and  a  sense  that  the 
kitchen  and  Mr.  Roberts  did  not  seem  to  be- 
long together,  had  left  him  puzzled  as  to  what 
his  mother  could  do  to  refresh  his  friend,  and 
here  it  was  all  solved. 

A  few  slices  of  her  own  delicious  bread,  an 
omelet  golden  as  an  orange,  a  dainty  little  dish 
of  his  father's  favorite  strawberry  preserves, 
and  a  glass  of  ice-cold  milk  made  at  least  a 
tempting  and  refined  repast,  which  Mr.  Roberts 
seemed  heartily  to  enjoy. 

Dolly's  feet  pattering  overhead  told  Mrs. 
Brereton  that  sleepy  time  was  over.  Before 
he  left,  Mr.  Roberts  saw  that,  stranger  though 
he  was,  he  could  find  a  way  into  the  good 
graces  of  the  little  girls ;  and,  bachelor  a!*  he 
was,  he  was  astonished  to  find  them  delightful 
acquaintances.  Something  undefinable  about 
him  made  them  feel  the  same  ease  that  Jack 
felt  in  his  society  ;  there  was  a  faint  reminder 
of  their  father  in  his  cheery,  courteous  manner. 


138 


JACK    AS    A    POSTMAN. 


Altogether  his  visit  was  charming  to  himself 
and  Jack,  and  he  left,  promising  to  surely  come 
again  when  next  he  should  visit  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton ;  but  when  he  came  again  to  Ruremont,  he 
had  little  thought  of  Thornhill,  and  came  solely 
for  the  Breretons'  sake. 


VI. 

THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861. 

THE  months  slipped  by  after  the  fashion  of 
hot  summer  days  and  nights ;  the  garden 
was  a  wonder  of  prolific  growth  and  Jack  made 
good  sales  of  his  fruits  and  vegetables,  both  at 
the  post-office  and  by  Tim  Kelly's  active  assist- 
ance among  his  customers.  When  the  latter 
brought  his  daily  account  of  his  sales  and  pay- 
ments, Jack  would  often  find  scratched  on  the 
back  of  the  paper,  "  3  quarts  strawberries  fur 
Mistur  Roggers,"  or  "  a  basket  of  currins  fur 
Mis'  Paxson's  jelly,"  which  meant  orders  to 
be  called  for  the  next  morning. 

They  had  no  illness;  both  children  throve  and 

grew  apace,  the  old  fund  was  untouched  and  the 

new  one  became  steadily  larger;  letters  came 

frequently  from   their   absent    soldier   and    all 

139 


140       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861. 

seemed  as  well  as  they  could  reasonably  hope, 
but  Mrs.  Brereton's  face  wore  a  wistful,  tired 
look  and  her  merry  smiles  were  rarely  seen; 
she  had  grown  silent  too,  and  as  for  Jack,  he 
seemed  at  least  a  year  older  than  when  his  father 
left  them,  and  was  as  gaunt  as  a  greyhound. 

The  strain  told  on  both  mother  and  son, 
though  neither  admitted  to  the  other  that  they 
were  tired  and  Jack  laughed  at  the  idea,  when 
his  mother's  anxious  questions  tried  to  draw  out 
a  confession  of  weariness.  School  had  closed 
on  the  seventeenth  of  June  and  that  mended 
matters  in  some  ways,  but  the  weeds  were  ram- 
pant, and  Tim,  in  the  height  of  his  summer 
traffic,  had  little  time  at  his  command,  and 
Jack,  for  the  most  part,  made  war  on  their 
vigorous  growth,  single-handed.  Sometimes, 
despite  laughter  and  protestations,  his  mother 
would  find  him  beside  his  bed,  fallen  into  a 
heavy  sleep ;  prayers  begun  had  ended  with  a 
drooping  head  and  a  motionless  body,  which 
told  their  own  tale. 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       141 

Near  Washington  the  daily  enlarging  armies 
were  becoming  powerful,  organized  and  disci- 
plined; on  either  side  the  leaders  watched  and 
waited,  neither  seeming  eager  to  bear  the  respon- 
sibility of  beginning  an  attack.  The  militia  regi- 
ments which  had  stood  guard  over  the  Capitol 
until  a  permanent  and  fully  organized  army 
could  be  put  into  the  field,  had  served  out  the 
time  for  which  they  had  volunteered,  and  Mrs. 
Brereton's  friends  and  neighbors  began  to  speak 
cheerfully  to  her  of  the  day  when  the  regi- 
ment would  be  coming  home,  and  assure  her 
that  now  all  danger  was  past  of  her  husband 
being  called  upon  to  fight. 

They  had  done  a  splendid  work,  these  un- 
selfish men,  who,  at  so  much  personal  sacrifice, 
had  thus  promptly  hastened  to  the  front  and 
formed  a  living  bulwark  around  Washington, 
and  they  would  now  soon  be  honorably  dis- 
charged and  return  to  their  homes  with  the 
thanks  of  the  Union  and  no  scars.  Already 
July  had  come,  and  was  on  the  wane  ;  virtually 


142       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF   JULY,    1861. 

the  three  months  were  past  and  gone;  and  then, 
on  the  eighteenth  of  July,  on  the  very  day 
which  properly  terminated  their  term  of  service, 
Brereton's  regiment  was  ordered  across  the 
Potomac.  Danger  was  at  hand;  the  Federal 
forces  had  decided  to  take  the  initiative  step, 
and  in  the  evening  the  men  wTho  had  felt  that 
nothing  stood  between  them  and  home  except 
the  lapse  of  a  few  fast-passing  hours,  encamped 
on  the  southern  side  of  the  dividing  river  and 
knew  that  a  battle  was  too  imminent  for  them 
to  dream  of  retreat. 

At  Ruremont  the  whole  village  made  itself 
busy,  planning  how  they  would  welcome  their 
soldier,  w^hen  suddenly  a  dark  cloud  of  fear 
came  over  them  all,  hanging  heavily  above  the 
bright  little  home  so  bravely  kept  by  the  mother 
and  her  boy.  News  came  that  the  regiment  had 
been  incorporated  into  General  Burnside's  bri- 
gade, that  a  great  battle  was  close  at  hand,  and 
that  the  army  was  moving  forward  toward  the 
ill-fated  field  of  Manassas  Plains.     The  eager, 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       143 

happy  hearts  which  had  begun  to  count  the 
days  and  even  the  hours,  throbbed  anxiously; 
the  little  preparations  which  mother  and  son 
were  constantly  making,  came  to  a  sad  halt. 

The  nightly  reading  of  the  newspapers  be- 
came a  work  of  fear  and  dread,  and  tacitly, 
without  words  of  explanation,  work  begun  was 
suspended.  Curtains  newly  washed,  which 
were  to  have  been  hung  immediately,  lay  in 
their  snowy  folds  untouched ;  fruit  which  Jack 
had  refused  to  pick,  watching  the  finest  eagerly, 
and  counting  largely  on  his  father's  enjoyment, 
was  now,  without  any  words,  laid  in  the  tidy 
baskets  with  a  big  B,  which  had  by  this  time 
grown  familiar  to  all  persons  who  dealt  at  the 
shop  kept  by  the  postmaster.  His  trips  to 
Thornhill  became  tiresome  to  his  discouraged 
heart,  and  as  he  worked  away  at  Mr.  Holtin's 
he  would  catch  himself  dreaming  with  rake  or 
broom  in  hand. 

The  seventeenth  passed  ;  the  eighteenth  ;  yet 
to  these  two  devoted  hearts  the  end  did  not 


144       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    18G1. 

come !  On  the  morning  of  the  latter  day  they 
received  the  following  letter,  ever  after  very 
precious  to  them  both  : 

Dear  Wife: 

I  cannot  say  much;  before  many  hours  a  battle 
must  be  fought  and  our  regiment  is  sorely  needed. 
There  are  many  troops  here,  in  numbers  perhaps  am- 
ply sufficient,  but  they  are  largely  raw  recruits,  and  as 
we  are  at  least  accustomed  to  military  order  and  dis- 
cipline and  the  use  of  arms,  it  would  be  a  piece  of 
dastardly  meanness  to  ask  our  discharge  before  the 
fight. 

You  can  understand  that  I  am  wholly  unable  to 
write  of  what  this  means  to  us  both,  and  to  my  poor 
old  Jack.  If  I  were  to  attempt  to  express  what  I 
feel,  I  should  lose  the  strength  I  so  greatly  need  in 
this  terrible  crisis.  How  long  have  I  looked  forward 
to  this  day  and  pictured  my  return !  Thank  God,  I 
know  you  will  be  ready  to  help  me  do  my  duty  and 
will  be  patient  and  brave.  Tell  my  boy  he  too  must 
consider  that  he  is  called  to  volunteer  for  extra  duty, 
and  wait  to  be  mustered  out  until  God  sends  me  home. 

We  march  to-morrow  toward  Fairfax  Court  House. 
Our  regiment  is  in  Burnside's  Brigade  of  General 
McDowell's  division.  Fear  nothing,  but  hope  all 
things;  if  sorrow  comes  you  will  have  lost  nothing 
by  meeting  it  with  courage. 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       145 

Of  all  the  many  things  you  and  I  would  talk  of,  if 
we  were  together  to-night,  time  is  too  brief  for  me 
to  say  anything  helpful  or  explicit.  What  was  need- 
ful to  say  on  matters  of  business  was  fully  explained 
on  that  last  evening,  and  you  know  where  to  find  my 
papers.  I  have  nothing  to  add  to  what  was  then 
arranged. 

Kiss  Dolly  and  Baby  for  me ;  tell  Jack  he  has  more 
than  fulfilled  my  expectations  and  entirely  satisfied 
me,  and  bid  him  keep  steady  as  a  rock.  For  yourself, 
dear,  all  I  might,  but  dare  not  say,  you  know  already. 
Hope,  pray,  and  keep  strong  for  your 
Devoted  husband, 

John  Bkereton. 

Jack  stood  behind  his  mother  and  at  her  in- 
vitation read  this  brief  letter  over  her  shoulder. 
As  he  finished  it,  he  walked  quickly  from  the 
room  and  went  out  on  the  veranda.  Heat, 
throbbing,  palpitating  heat,  burned  over  the 
parched  grass  before  the  door ;  dust  arose  from 
the  road  beyond ;  the  flowers  hung  their  heads  ; 
there  seemed  nothing  to  refresh  him,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  Jack  found  no  comfort 
"out-of-doors."  Nature  had  always  had  a  very 
kindly  influence  heretofore,  but  this  burning 


146       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861. 

July  sun  brought  him  no  balm.  He  turned 
back  to  the  room  where  his  mother  sat,  and 
found  she  had  taken  Flossy  upon  her  knee, 
and  was  dropping  her  rings  into  the  little  fat 
hands,  to  amuse  the  child.  Dolly  was  busy 
with  her  blocks  in  the  corner. 

As  Jack  came  in,  silent  and  with  a  heavy 
look  of  trouble  in  his  face,  his  sweet  mother, 
continuing  her  mechanical  play  with  Baby, 
looked  up  at  him  and  gave  him  such  a  dear, 
brave,  trembling  smile,  that  Jack's  heart  felt 
as  if  dew  had  fallen  on  him  at  high  noon.  It 
spoke  to  him  in  such  a  pathetic  way,  of  just 
the  obedient  effort  to  fulfill  his  father's  request 
for  which  he  was  struggling,  that  he  found  im- 
mediate help.  This  was  the  face  and  the  smile 
of  one  who  had  hoped  and  prayed  and  loved 
with  all  her  heart. 

Jack  knelt  down  suddenly  beside  her  chair 
and  put  his  long  boyish  arms  around  both  his 
mother  and  Flossy;  at  the  same  time,  "Mam- 
my," he  said,  "  I  am  ashamed  of  myself,  but  I 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       147 

ran  out  without  remembering  that  I  left  you 
alone.  I  felt  as  if  I  must  go  and  get  a  breath 
of  fresh  air.  I  felt  as  if  I  could  not  stand  it ! 
Not  much  like  a  soldier,  am  I  ?  And  you,"  he 
said  with  the  accent  of  a  lover,  "  so  brave  and 
patient,  all  the  time !  " 

Mrs.  Brereton  leaned  forward  and  kissed  his 
forehead  where  the  nervous  contracted  lines 
gave  him  an  older  and  unnatural  expression, 
and  shook  her  head  as  if  deprecating  his  praise. 
"  My  papa  is  coming  home  to-morrow,"  said 
Dolly,  as  if  giving  information  exclusively  her 
own. 

Jack  saw  his  mother's  self-control  was  sorely 
tasked,  and  catching  Flossy  suddenly  in  his 
arms,  said,  "  Leave  the  children  to  me  a  little 
while  and  go  where  you  can  get  a  few  minutes' 
quiet  by  yourself,  mother  dear;  it  will  rest 
you." 

She  did  not  pause  to  reply,  but  went  quickly 
out  of  the  room,  and  Jack,  who  had  hardly  said 
as  much  to  himself  as  yet,  felt  he  must  explain 


148       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF   JULY,    1861. 

matters  to  Dolly,  so  that  she  would  not  distress 
his  mother  with  her  happy  chatter  about  his 
father's  coming.  So  making  a  hard  push  for 
courage  and  all  the  time  direfully  afraid  of 
breaking  down,  he  put  Flossy  on  the  floor  be- 
side her  sister  and  began  to  amuse  them  both, 
by  piling  their  blocks  into  a  high  column,  sure 
to  fall  with  a  delightful  crash. 

"Dolly,"  he  said,  in  the  quiet  which  followed 
the  first  downfall,  "mother  got  a  letter  this 
morning  and  father  can't  come  home  just  yet. 
They  want  him  to  stay  a  little  longer  and  we 
will  have  to  wait  until  he  can  be  spared.  Will 
you  be  a  very  good  girl  and  help  mamma,  and 
not  ask  her  any  questions  about  when  he  can 
come?  As  soon  as  I  know,  I'll  tell  you  right 
away,  and  poor  mamma  is  so  sorry  it  makes 
her  cry  to  talk  about  it.  Will  you  try  not  to 
ask  about  papa  to-day  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Dolly,  « I'll  be  a  good  girl." 
"  You  surely  will  ?  You  won't  forget  ?  " 
"  No,  I  won't   forget,"  said    Dolly,  coming 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       149 

suddenly  very  close  to  him  and  thrusting  her 
fat  little  finger  almost  into  Jack's  eyes.  "  Why, 
you  are  crying  yourself,  Jack !  Ain't  you 
ashamed,  when  you  are  such  a  big  boy ! " 

Her  intensely  funny  attitude  and  her  assump- 
tion of  superiority  as  she  looked  at  her  wet 
finger,  on  which  Jack's  one  reluctant  tear  still 
clung,  restored  the  boy's  equilibrium.  "  Yes,  I 
am  ashamed,  Dolly ;  I  won't  do  it  any  more. 
ComQ,"  he  said,  half-laughing,  "let  us  build 
a  big  pile  now,"  and  up  went  another  fore- 
doomed column,  as  high  as  Flossy's  head. 

Mrs.  Brereton  did  not  tax  his  patience  long, 
but  came  back  soon,  with  a  sweet  serenity  in 
her  grave  face  which  was  not  born  of  earth, 
and  sent  Jack  off  to  his  neglected  work. 

The  nineteenth,  the  twentieth  and  the  twenty- 
first  days  of  July  passed;  the  papers  brought 
but  scanty  details,  and  no  other  letter  came. 
No  army  news  reached  New  York  except  such 
as  was  authorized  for  publication  by  General 
Scott,  and  it  was  carefully  worded  so  as  to  give 


150       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    18G1. 

no  information  to  the  enemy,  should  it  find  its 
way  across  the  Potomac.  All  they  knew  was, 
that  General  McDowell  had  gone  forward  and 
that  the  battle-ground  was  likely  to  be  near 
Manassas  Plains.  Each  morning  Jack  rose  yet 
earlier  than  before,  and  had  a  paper  in  his  hands 
as  soon  as  the  train  left  them  at  the  station  for 
the  newsdealers.  On  the  twenty-second,  only 
about  one  third  the  usual  number  of  copies 
were  given  out  at  Ruremont.  A  battle  had 
been  fought,  and  the  edition  had  not  been  large 
enough  to  meet  the  frantic  demand  in  the  city 
for  the  printed  account,  so  that  very  few  could 
be  spared  to  the  rural  stations.  Jack  was  not 
able  to  secure  a  paper  for  himself,  but  he  was 
allowed  to  read  the  great  letters  in  the  headings 
of  the  columns  as  he  stood  among  those  who 
crowded  around  the  agent. 

"  Victory.  A  Splendid  Victory.  The  Capi- 
tal Safe."  A  wild  outburst  of  such  phrases, 
in  immense  capitals,  was  easily  read,  but  the 
actual  account  of  the  battle  was  painfully  scant 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       151 

and  unsatisfactory.  No  numbers,  no  details, 
no  facts.  Nothing  but  victory  and  gallantry 
and  splendid  fighting,  made  into  sentences 
which  sounded  very  well,  and  roused  great 
enthusiasm.  Jack  hastened  home  to  give  his 
mother  the  small  store  of  information  he  had 
been  able  to  obtain. 

She  was  numb  with  fear,  and  sent  him 
quickly  back,  bidding  him  try  everywhere  — 
post-office,  telegraph  station,  railway  office, 
everywhere  and  in  every  direction  whence 
news  could  come  —  to  find  some  information  of 
his  father's  regiment.  But,  amidst  the  strain 
of  fright  and  doubt,  duty  had  yet  to  be  done, 
and  Jack  reached  Mr.  Holtin's  not  long  after 
his  usual  time. 

The  kind  master  was  out  looking  for  his 
morning's  paper,  and  hearing  from  the  excited 
boy  why  it  had  not  come,  he  bade  him  l^ve 
his  work,  without  a  moment's  delay,  and  hurry 
back  to  his  mother. 

But  Mr.  Thornton's  mail  was  a  different  sort 


152       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861. 

of  affair;  it  only  gained  in  importance  by 
this  crisis,  and  must  be  delivered  immediately. 
Jack's  good  old  friend,  the  postmaster,  came 
out  to  meet  him,  bag  in  hand.  "  I  wish  I  had 
a  substitute  for  you  to-day,  my  boy,"  he  said 
kindly,  "  for  I  know  you  must  want  to  stay  at 
home,  but  I  can't  find  any  person  I  can  trust. 
Every  one  is  down  at  the  telegraph  office  or 
the  railroad  station.  I'll  do  my  best  to  find  out 
all  I  can  for  you  while  you  are  gone." 

Jack's  thin  legs  carried  him  flying  up  the 
dusty  road,  and  he  was  quite  ten  minutes 
ahead  of  time  when  Mr.  Thornton  on  horse- 
back met  him,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond 
the  gate. 

"  Ah ! "  he  said  in  a  tone  of  pleased  surprise, 
"  there  you  are.  I  was  afraid  you  might  not 
come.  I  had  a  private  telegram  about  the 
batfle.  I  knew  I  could  depend  on  you,  but 
this  is  a  faithfulness  I  shall  remember  a  long 
time.  Any  news  from  your  father  ?  Are  you 
sure  he  was  in  this  fight?" 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       153 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  think  it  is  certain  he  was.  He 
wrote  us  to  expect  it." 

Mr.  Thornton  looked  earnestly  at  the  pale, 
resolute  face  of  the  poor  lad,  and  said,  with  a 
gentleness  very  unusual  to  him:  "Don't  bother 
about  the  evening  mail,  I'll  ride  in  for  it  my- 
self. You  get  back  as  soon  as  you  can ;  there 
may  be  a  telegram  coming,  or  something.  How 
does  your  mother  bear  it  ?  " 

Jack's  voice  trembled  :  "  She  is  very  brave, 
sir ;  but  it's  breaking  her  heart !  " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  Mr.  Roberts  told  me  she  was  a 
lovely  woman.  Get  home  to  her  now  as  fast 
as  you  can." 

Jack  bounded  back  and  was  soon  at  the  tele- 
graph office,  where  half  the  village  were  wait- 
ing for  more  authentic  news.  Soon  finding  how 
vain  and  hopeless  it  was  to  stand  in  the  midst 
of  this  excited  crowd,  he  returned  to  give  his 
trying  report  to  his  mother. 

By  noon  the  suspense  became  unbearable, 
and  Mrs.  Brer e ton  grew  so  pale  and  haggard 


154       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861. 

that  Jack  became  alarmed  lest  she  were  going 
to  be  ill.  Suddenly  she  said  to  him  :  "  Son,  go 
upstairs  and  dress  yourself;  I  am  going  to  send 
you  to  New  York.  You  can  surely  hear  some- 
thing at  the  armory." 

The  boy  was  only  too  thankful  for  the  chance 
of  doing  anything  active,  and  he  began  to  get 
ready  in  hot  haste,  hoping  to  catch  the  one 
o'clock  train,  but  as  he  dressed,  he  grew  more 
and  more  reluctant  to  leave  his  mother  to  wait 
alone,  a  prey  to  her  distressing  doubts.  Her 
white  face  haunted  him.  He  ran  downstairs 
and  astonished  her  by  entreating  her  to  go 
with  him  to  New  York. 

"Get  ready,  mother,"  he  said.  "I'll  run  over 
to  Mrs.  Paxson's  and  I  know  she  will  come  and 
take  care  of  the  children,  and  I'll  get  'Becca, 
too,  so  she  can't  have  any  trouble." 

Mrs.  Brereton  hesitated.  «  Yes,  dear,"  she 
said ;  "  yes,  Jack,  I'll  go." 

"  Hurry  up,  then,"  he  said,  and  was  dressed 
and  at  Mrs.  Paxson's  in  an  incredibly  short  time. 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       155 

All  hearts  were  open  to  bis  call ;  he  could 
have  had  half  a  dozen  nurses  for  the  children, 
if  needful;  Mrs.  Paxson  was  at  the  cottage 
door  and  'Becca  was  in  sight,  in  ample  time 
for  his  mother  and  himself  to  be  sure  of  their 
train,  and  Mrs.  Brereton  began  to  lose  her 
strained  and  unnatural  look  as  soon  as  she  had 
something  to  do,  instead  of  enduring  that  silent 
still  watching  and  listening,  which  had  kept 
every  nerve  tense  since  day-dawn.  Every  step 
had  been  to  her  the  possible  approach  of  the 
messenger  of  death,  every  sound  a  source  of 
dread. 

At  all  the  stations  flags  were  flying,  and  on 
board  the  train  strangers  conversed  freely  with 
each  other  and  shared  the  scanty  extras,  which 
were  eagerly  sought  at  every  stopping  place. 

Arriving  at  New  York,  the  city  wore  the 
aspect  of  a  holiday.  Flags  gaily  floated  from 
every  conceivable  point ;  people  hurried  to  and 
fro,  excitement  was  visible  on  every  face,  and 
the  newsboys  rushed  wildly  about,  shouting: 


156       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF   JULY,    18G1. 

"Last  edition -extra,"  at  the  top  of  their  tired 
voices.  Windows  flew  open,  daintily  dressed 
ladies  ran  hastily  into  the  streets,  almost  snatch- 
ing the  sheets,  which  contained  little  worth 
reading;  a  hundred  copies  of  an  extra  would 
be  exhausted  in  ten  minutes. 

Jack  and  his  mother  saw  all  and  said  little, 
while  they  drove  slowly  over  the  jolting  pave- 
ment until  they  reached  their  looked-for  street. 
No   sooner  were   they  on    the    sidewalk    and 
mingling   in    the   crowd   than   they  were   in- 
stantly conscious  that  those  around  them  were 
in  strange  contrast  with  the  joyous  display  of 
flags  and  the  exultant  words  of  victory  every- 
where to  be  read.    Knots  of  people  stopped  the 
steady  stream  of  foot  passengers,  who,  gather- 
ing around  a  nucleus,  soon  became  noisy  crowds 
who  talked  with  loud  voices  and  made  vehement 
gestures. 

Something  I  cannot  put  into  words  at  once 
alarmed  the  sensitive  hearts  of  the  anxious 
mother  and  son.     Jack  took  upon  himself  to 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    18G1.       157 

question  a  kind-looking  old  gentleman,  who 
turned  sadly  away  from  some  men,  with  whom 
he  had  been  talking.  "  Is  there  any  bad  news, 
sir  ?     My  father  is  a  soldier." 

The  gentleman  stopped  instantly;  in  those 
life-and-death  days  people  were  patient  with 
such  interruptions.  "I  trust  he  is  a  brave  one, 
then,  my  boy,"  he  said.  "  Yes,  the  news  is  bad 
enough." 

"  Wasn't  it  true  about  the  victory  ?  " 

"Victory!  Why,  boy,  we  are  terribly  de- 
feated; terribly,  shamefully  defeated.  There 
were  men  who  ran  off  the  field  and  left  their 
arms  behind  them." 

Jack's  cheeks  flamed  like  a  sunset.  "  My 
father  would  sooner  die ! "  he  said  proudly. 

"I  hope  he  would,  I  hope  he  would,"  said  the 
old  gentleman  sadly,  and  looking  up,  and  see- 
ing Mrs.  Brereton's  sad,  inquiring  face,  he 
added  gently  to  her,  "I  hope  you  will  have 
good  news  of  your  husband,  madam,"  and 
walked  on. 


158       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861. 

Soon  they  caught  sight  of  the  armory  and 
over  it  hung  a  flag  at  half-mast!  Mrs.  Brere- 
ton  stopped  short  and  her  breath  came  heavily. 
"Some  one  is  dead,"  she  said  in  a  whisper. 
"O,  Jack!  some  one  is  dead." 

"Maybe  it  is  for  the  defeat,  mother,"  he 
stammered  out.  "  See!  all  the  flags  are  being 
lowered.  Don't  stop  here;  let  us  get  to  the 
armory  as  soon  as  we  can." 

But  they  were  unexpectedly  impeded.  To 
them,  John  Brereton,  Company  A,  was  the  one 
soldier  to  be  inquired  for,  but  here  were  hun- 
dreds of  people — mostly  women,  many  with 
their  children  in  their  arms,  or  tugging  at  their 
skirts  —  weeping,  talking,  pushing,  and  all  on 
the  same  errand. 

Jack's  acquaintance  with  the  armory  stood 
him  in  good  stead.  "Let  us  go  to  the  lower 
door,"  he  said.  There  they  found  a  sentry; 
Jack's  face  was  a  passport  and  the  soldier  lis- 
tened at  once.  "My  father,  John  Brereton,  is 
in    Company  A;    we    live  in    the  country,  at 


\ 


':.      •    ;" 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    18G1.       1G1 

Ruremont,  and  my  mother  wants  to  get  the 
news.     Could  you  let  us  in?" 

The  calm,  lovely,  heart-broken  face  of  Jack's 
mother  was  in  sharp  contrast  to  the  violent 
crowd  behind  her.  "  I  cannot  let  you  in,"  the 
soldier  said,  "but  I  can  tell  you  the  news. 
The  regiment  behaved  splendidly  and  received 
the  highest  praise ;  the  returns  are  not  yet  in." 

"Are  there  any  wounded?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Any —  any  dead  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;  but  we  haven't  got  the  names 
right  yet." 

"Are  there  any  names  sent?" 

"Yes,  ma'am;  but  only  a  few.  They'll  put 
out  bulletins  as  fast  as  they  come.  There ! 
there  goes  one  now."  A  large  "  poster  "  was 
being  hung  from  an  upper  window. 

Not  stopping  to  thank  the  kind  soldier,  Jack 
seized  his  mother's  hand  and  almost  draped 
her  across  the  street,  and  mounted  a  high  flight 
of  steps,  where  they  read  the  placard  easily. 


102       Tin:    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861. 

"Regiment  fought  with  great  courage,  and 
did  splendid  service.     Returns  as  far  as  known 
are  as  follows :"  then  followed  name  after  name, 
name  after  name,  with  mention  of  the  company 
to  which  each  belonged,  but  no  John  Brereton. 
Slowly  the  crowd  dropped  away,  too  many 
with  deadly  sorrow  at  their  hearts ;  those  un- 
satisfied, like  our  poor  Jack,  still  watched  and 
waited.     The  afternoon  waned,  and  the  owner 
of  the  house  on  whose  steps  they  stood  came 
home.     He  looked  with  quick  sympathy  at  the 
patient  figures  watching  the  slowly  swelling  list. 
"  You  have  friends  in  the  regiment  ?  "  he  asked. 
"My  father,"  said  Jack;   "and  this   is   my 
mother." 

"Do,  madam,  come  in  and  rest,  I  beg  of  .you, 
and  let  your  son  watch  here." 

Mrs.  Brereton  looked  at  him  in  a  half- won- 
dering way;  her  senses  were  numb  and  dull. 
"Do  come  in  and  rest,"  he  said  again,  more 
urgently;  "my  wife  will  be  so  glad  to  welcome 
you ;  she  has  a  son  in  the  army." 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    18G1.       1G3 

"  Mother  dear,  do  go  in,"  said  Jack,  fright- 
ened at  her  looks,  which  he  had  been  too  ab- 
sorbed to  notice. 

The  gentleman  bent  respectfully  toward  the 
frail  figure,  whose  aspect  was  so  unconsciously 
pathetic.  "These  sorrowful  days  do  away  with 
ceremony,"  he  said ;  "  we  are  all  sufferers  to- 
gether, and  it  is  a  privilege  to  be  of  use  to  a 
soldier's  wife.  The  favor  would  be  to  us  if  you 
would  come  in  and  rest." 

"  Please,  mother  dear,"  pleaded  Jack,  "  just 
for  a  little  while." 

Loosening  her  hold  on  the  banister,  Mrs. 
Brereton  discovered  that  she  was  unable  to 
stand  without  support,  and  taking  the  prof- 
fered arm  of  her  unknown  friend,  she  went 
slowly  with  him  into  the  house,  remembering, 
as  she  became  conscious  of  her  weakness,  that 
she  had  eaten  nothing  since  her  early  breakfast. 

Suspecting  that  Jack  too  was  fasting  as  well 
as  weary,  their  kind  host  came  to  urge  him 
to  join  his  mother,  but  he  could  not  turn  his 


104       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    18G1. 

back  on  that  fateful  window  with  its  changing 
placard. 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  the  gentleman. 

"Brereton,  sir  —  Jack  Brereton." 

"Is  your  father  an  officer?" 

"  No,  sir ;  only  a  private  in  Company  A." 

"  Then  I  fear  your  watch  is  in  vain,  for  in 
this  dreadful  confusion  I  doubt  if  many  but 
conspicuous  names  will  be  heard  from  to-day. 
Have  you  far  to  go  to  reach  home  to-night?" 

"To  Ruremont,  sir." 

"  Your  mother  is  looking  for  you ;  she  is  at 
the  window." 

Jack  to  his  delight  saw  her  seated  beside  an 
elderly  lady,  with  a  cup  in  her  hand,  and  a  look 
of  returning  color  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Mrs.  Hinman  (my  name  is  Ilinman)  is  tak- 
ing good  care  of  her,  and  I  will  see  if  I  cannot 
be  of  some  use  over  there."  He  passed  quickly 
across  the  street  and  disappeared  in  the  crowd. 

In  a  short  time  he  returned  and  kindly  lay- 
ing a  hand  on  either  shoulder  said :  "  I  have 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       165 

ascertained,  positively,  that  you  can  hear  noth- 
ing more  to-night;  all  communication  is  cut 
off  for  the  present,  except  for  Government 
purposes.  I  have  influence  with  the  officer  in 
charge  of  the  armory,  and  he  has  given  me  his 
word  to  let  me  have  immediate  information,  if 
your  father's  name  is  mentioned.  I  have  op- 
portunities which  you  could  not  have;  trust 
me ;  take  your  mother  home,  if  she  cannot  stay 
here,  and  I  will  telegraph  the  moment  news 
arrives." 

Jack  had  seen  the  crowd  give  way,  and 
watched  with  surprise,  as  Mr.  Hinman  made 
his  entrance  within  the  guarded  doors,  and  no 
one  could  doubt  the  kind,  dignified  face  look- 
ing down  at  him.  "I  will  try  to  persuade 
mother  to  do  as  you  say,"  he  answered  sadly, 
"  and  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,  but 
it  will  be  awfully  hard  to  go  back  without  hear- 
ing anything." 

Mr.  Hinman  did  not  try  to  make  light  of  this 
sad  truth,  but  led  the  way  into  the  beautiful 


1G6       THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    18G1. 

house,  where  Jack  found  his  mother  leaning 
back  in  a  cushioned  chair,  with  Mrs.  Hinman 
close  beside  her. 

Mrs.  Brereton  came  eagerly  forward  as  they 
entered,  and  Mr.  Hinman  did  not  wait  for  her 
to  speak.  «  We  can  have  no  hope  of  further 
news  to-night,"  he  said  gently;  "1  have  assured 
myself  of  that  beyond  a  doubt,  and  since  Jack 
tells  me  that  you  must  return  to  your  little 
ones,  I  would  advise  that  you  should  wait  no 
longer.  I  have  secured  a  promise  of  the  first 
intelligence  and  will  forward  it  instantly.  J 
wish  we  could  keep  you  here  over  night." 

Mrs.  Brereton  looked  toward  Jack.  "No 
news  is  allowed  to  come,  mother ;  Mr.  Hinman 
has  power  to  hear  before  we  can ;  we  had  better 
go  at  once." 

Slowly,  and  with  a  body  as  weary  as  her 
heart,  the  dear  little  woman  made  herself  ready 
to  return  to  her  babies  and  gratefully  bade  her 
new-made  friends  "good-by."  Already  she 
and  her  boy  had  won  a  place  in  their  regard, 


THE    TWENTY-FIRST    OF    JULY,    1861.       167 

and  they  were  at  least  that  much  the  richer  for 
this  dark  day's  work. 

At  Kuremont,  every  carriage  at  the  station 
was  eagerly  offered  to  drive  them  home,  and 
Jack  was  delighted  to  see  how  tender  every 
one  was  of  his  mother,  but  for  himself,  hungry 
and  tired  as  he  was,  he  trudged  off  to  the  tele- 
graph office,  to  make  sure  that  he  neglected 
nothing. 

And  when,  exhausted  in  mind  and  body,  he 
paused  at  the  little  gate,  he  had  no  heart  for 
the  childish  offering  of  his  evening  report  and 
could  only  find  energy  to  raise  his  eyes  toward 
the  Heaven  above  him,  in  token  that  he  was 
faithful  to  his  duty. 

Had  he  any  father  on  earth  ? 


VII. 

THINGS  NORTH    AND    SOUTH    OF  "  DIXIE'S    LINE." 

MRS.  BRERETON'S  face  told  its  own 
■***-  story  to  Mrs.  Paxson  and  'Becca ;  only 
questioning  Jack  to  learn  what  form  of  trou- 
ble they  had  encountered,  and  lovingly  adding 
what  she  could,  to  give  courage  and  hope,  Mrs. 
Paxson  left  her  friend  to  the  quiet  she  so 
evidently  needed. 

'Becca,  at  Jack's  earnest  request,  staid  on 
to  put  the  children  to  bed  and  spare  his  mother 
any  greater  fatigue,  and  she,  for  once,  yielded 
to  their  urgent  entreaty  and  lay  still  in  the 
now  cool  parlor  until  tea  was  ready. 

Afterward,  when  the  dusk  of  evening  fell, 
and  the  dew  gave  some  refreshment  to  the 
fevered  earth,  Jack  took  his  father's  folding- 
chair out  on  the  veranda;  he  made  it  com- 
»  168 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  u  DIXIE'S  LINE."       169 

fortable  with  a  large  shawl,  and  brought  out 
his  mother  into  the  stillness  of  the  summer 
night.  "  Everything  seems  better  out  of  doors, 
mother  dear,"  he  said  pleadingly ;  "  it  seems  to 
take  the  fever  out  of  your  forehead  and  cheeks 
just  to  come  outside  the  house." 

And  it  was  better !  The  dewy  moisture  of 
the  night  distilled  a  balm  for  her  tired  nerves, 
and  the  sounds  of  night,  the  delicate  stir  of  the 
leaves,  the  faint  chirp  of  the  insects,  had  in 
them  a  nameless  soothing  which  she  felt  im- 
mediately. Belated  Jack  had  many  things  to 
do  by  lantern  light,  long  as  the  summer  day 
had  been ;  but  soon  he  came  back,  and  sitting 
close  beside  her,  slid  his  sinewy  young  hand 
under  his  mother's  shawl  and  stroked  her 
slender  fingers.  Only  a  mother  knows  what  it 
is  to  be  comforted  by  her  own  boy  !  When  the 
little  hand  which  has  clung  so  helplessly  to 
hers  grows  strong  to  uphold,  she  leans  hard 
and  is  blessed  indeed. 

Their  peaceful  quiet  was  but  of  short  dura- 


170       NOKTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE." 

tion,  for  neighbor  after  neighbor  came  to  ask 
for  news  and  offer  service  of  every  sort,  and 
Jack  was  more  than  ever  glad  that  the  dark- 
ness  sheltered  them.  It  all  seemed  so  much 
easier  than  if  they  were  obliged  to  bear  the 
questioning  looks  of  even  kindly  eyes  like  these. 
He  did  the  talking  and  no  one  staid  long,  for 
it  was  too  unusual  a  sight  to  see  Mrs.  Brereton 
lying  down  and  obliged  to  show  that  she  had 
grown  faint  by  the  way,  to  need  any  hint  that 
she  must  not  be  tired  by  visitors. 

At  Ruremont,  as  in  all  railway  towns,  the 
trains  served  to  tell  the  time,  and  at  last  Jack 
said:  "Mother,  the  ten  minutes  to  twelve  train 
has  gone  down;  couldn't  you  go  to  bed? 
You'll  be  worn  out  to-morrow,  I  am  afraid,  if 
you  do  not  get  some  sleep." 

"  Yes,  son,  I'll  go.  There  can  be  no  chance 
of  any  news  now,  for  they  said  the  telegraph 
operator  was  going  to  close  the  office  at  twelve 
o'clock.  And  you  too,  dear  Jack,  must  be  very 
tired." 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  u  DIXIE'S  LINE."       171 

"  Well,  I  think  1  must  be,"  he  said,  as  if  re- 
flecting on  some  one  else's  condition ;  "  but  1 
am  not  a  bit  sleepy.  Listening  and  watching 
so,  keeps  you  awake ;  but  I  want  to  be  up  in 
time  to  catch  the  paper  train  in  the  morning, 
so  I  think  we  had  better  go  to  bed." 

As  Mrs.  Brereton  went  slowly  upstairs,  she 
paused  while  Jack  locked  the  door  and  put 
out  the  hall  light,  and  the  change  in  her  rela- 
tions to  her  boy  came  sharply  before  her. 
The  child  his  father  left  so  short  a  time  ago, 
whose  chief  responsibility  had  been  to  obey, 
had  passed  completely  out  of  sight,  and  her 
sensible  adviser  and  invaluable  aid  stood  in 
his  place. 

Sleep  came  to  both  their  troubled  hearts 
erelong,  as,  thank  God,  it  comes  to  most 
weary  ones  who  trust  in  him,  and  Jack 
started  violently  when  the  morning  light,  com- 
ing through  the  open  window,  roused  him  from 
some  bewildering  dream.  He  peeped  into  his 
mother's  room  and  saw  with  delight  that  she 


172       NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE." 

slept  the  heavy  sleep  of  exhausted  mind  and 
body,  so  he  moved  noiselessly  about  and  crept 
downstairs  to  catch  the  train.  He  found  a 
large  proportion  of  the  village  boys  and  men 
going  the  same  way,  on  the  same  errand,  and 
it  certainly  was  a  pleasant  beginning  to  the 
day,  to  receive  such  warm  and  kindly  greetings 
as  they  gave  him. 

The  train  came  and  went,  and  the  papers 
only  repeated  what  he  had  seen  and  heard  at 
the  armory  the  day  before.  A  few  names  were 
added  to  the  already  too  long  list ;  there  was 
a  steadier  tone  in  the  various  accounts,  more 
stories  of  gallantry,  fewer  of  disgraceful  flight, 
and  that  was  all.  Jack  secured  all  the  infor- 
mation he  could,  and  started  to  walk  back. 

To  his  intense  surprise,  he  saw  the  unmis- 
takable figure  of  Mr.  Thornton  galloping  to- 
ward him.  «  Yesterday's  news  has  made  me 
so  miserable,"  he  said,  "  that  I  could  not  sleep 
well,  and  I  rode  down  for  an  early  paper. 
Have  you  any  news  of  your  father  yet  ?  " 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE."       173 

"No,  Mr.  Thornton,  not  one  word." 
"  That's  hard  to  bear,  Jack,  hard  to  bear. 
Tell  Mrs.  Brereton  if  she  wants  anything  to 
send  at  once  to  me  ;  tell  her  that  yesterday, 
by  means  under  my  control,  I  tried  to  get  her 
some  information  directly  from  Washington, 
but  they  did  not  even  know  there  where  your 
father  really  was." 

"  Oh !  that  was  very  kind." 

"  Kind?  nonsense,  boy.     It  is  a  terrible  thing 

to  wait  in  suspense  like  this,  and  you  and  your 

mother  have  done  your  duty  too  well  not  to 

have  plenty  of  friends  ready  to  do  all  they  can 

for  you."     He  put  his  horse  to  a  gallop  and 

was  off,  but  in   a  moment  wheeled   suddenly 

back.     "Have  you  all  the  money  you  want?" 

"  O,  yes  indeed  !  plenty,  thank  you." 

"  Well,  remember,  I  expect  you  to   let  me 

know  if  it  gives  out.     Don't  let  your  mother 

want  for  anything,  and  don't  have  my  mail  on 

your  mind  at  present ;  it  is  a  relief  to  me  to 

keep  moving,  and  I'll  ride  down  for  it  myself. 


174       NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE." 

I'll  hear  from  you  to-morrow,  and  if  you  get 
any  news  let  Trenchard,  the  postmaster,  know 
and  he'll  see  that  I  get  it  immediately." 

Mr.  Thornton  moved  away  too  fast  for 
thanks  to  reach  him,  and  Jack  was  so  taken  by 
surprise  at  this  expression  of  interest,  and  by 
the  thoughtful  endeavor  to  comfort  and  help 
his  mother,  that  he  would  hardly  have  known 
what  to  say,  even  had  he  lingered.  It  was  a 
solace  to  Mrs.  Brereton  to  know  that  this  busy 
and  important  man  so  valued  her  boy  that  he 
was  taking  such  pains  to  relieve  their  distress; 
so  Jack's  story  was  better  than  nothing,  when 
he  came  back  without  the  longed-for  news. 
All  the  remainder  of  the  morning  left  thus 
freely  at  his  disposal,  the  poor  lad  went  back 
and  forth  from  station  to  office,  from  office  to 
station,  on  the  same  fruitless  errand. 

A  few  minutes  after  the  noon  train  had 
arrived  from  New  York,  Jack,  alert  for  every 
possibility,  saw  a  gentleman  walking  rapidly 
up  the  road,  and  gradually  he  recognized  Mr. 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE."       175 

Roberts.  He  came  nearer  and  finally  paused 
at  the  gate  and  whistled.  Jack  ran  rapidly  to 
meet  him,  and  Mr.  Roberts,  laying  a  hand  on 
either  shoulder,  looked  down  affectionately  into 
his  troubled  face. 

u  How  is  your  mother,  Jack  ?  " 

"Oh!  miserable  enough,  Mr.  Roberts,  but 
trying  to  go  on  as  usual.  You  know  she  is  al- 
ways so  brave  and  patient." 

"  Could  she  see  me  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  am  sure  she  would  be  very  glad  to. 
She  sees  every  one  who  calls,  and  never  gives 
way  for  a  moment."  Perhaps  Mr.  Roberts  had 
brought  news.  "  Do  you  know  anything  to  tell 
her,  Mr.  Roberts  ?  " 

"  No,  Jack ;  but  I  saw  Mr.  Hinman  last  night ; 
we  came  across  each  other  at  the  armory.  He 
is  an  old  friend  of  mine,  and  he  told  me  how 
you  and  your  mother  had  rested  on  his  steps. 
I  knew  you  by  his  description  in  a  moment, 
and  he  and  I  were  both  there  on  the  same 
errand,  trying  to  get  some  correct  account  for 


176       NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINK." 

you.  I  told  him  a  good  deal  about  you  both, 
Jack,  and  you  have  made  one  more  good  friend, 
and  a  very  powerful  one  too,  I  can  tell  you. 
Mr.  Ilinman  is  a  man  who  has  great  influence 
both  in  New  York  and  Washington,  and  if  any 
tidings  of  your  father  can  be  obtained  he  will 
do  it,  before  any  one  else  ;  the  telegram  will 
be  sent  to  me  in  Trenchard's  care." 

They  were  by  this  time  nearly  up  to  the 
house  ;  Jack  stopped.  «  Mr.  Roberts,  what  do 
you  think?" 

"About  your  father?" 

"Yes,  sir."  Jack's  face  was  like  a  bit  of 
white  parchment.  The  penetrating,  eager  look 
of  the  boy's  eyes  was  too  keen  to  encourage  de- 
ception; his  manly  bearing  bespoke  his  high 
courage;  Mr.  Roberts  knew  he  had  endurance. 
"Jack,"  he  said,  "I  fear  the  worst  that  can 
come  to  a  brave  man  on  a  battle  field.  It  is 
impossible  that  he  did  not  do  all  his  duty,  and 
misfortune  has  surely  come  to  him.  Boy  as 
you  are,  I  have  respected    you  from  the  day 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE."       177 

I  saw  you  so  hardly  tried  at  Thornhill,  and  I 
will  treat  you  like  a  man,  and  make  no  attempt 
to  deceive  you.  False  hope  can  do  you  no 
good,  and  without  the  whole  truth  between  us, 
I  cannot  advise  you  to  any  good  end.  Can 
you  keep  steady  ?  Can  you  control  yourself 
for  your  mother's  sake?" 

"  I'll  try,"  said  the  suffering  boy,  with  trem- 
bling lips ;  "  I'll  do  my  best." 

Mr.  Roberts  threw  his  arm  over  Jack's 
shoulder,  as  his  father  used  to  do.  "Don't 
feel  lonely,"  he  said ;  "  I  will  be  with  you  as 
much  as  I  can,  and  there  is  nothing  your 
mother  may  wrant  that  she  shall  not  have." 

Jack  looked  up  gratefully  and  nodded  ;  the 
tears  were  gathering  too  fast  for  him  to  speak. 

The  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Brereton  came 
out  hastily.  Jack  was  beside  her  in  a  breath  ; 
he  saw  that  she  expected  news. 

"  We  have  heard  nothing,  mother  dear.  Mr. 
Roberts  came  to  tell  us  that  Mr.  Hinman  is 
trying    very  hard    to    find    out   something   in 


178       NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE." 

Washington."  Disappointment  and  relief  were 
both  apparent  in  the  changed,  yet  ever  lovely 
face,  which  tried  to  wear  a  smile  of  grateful 
welcome  for  her  husband's  friend. 

Possibilities  worn  threadbare  by  previous 
discussion,  served  to  occupy  their  thoughts 
and  conversation  until  the  afternoon  began  to 
wane,  when  Mr.  Roberts  proposed  going  again 
to  the  post-office. 

"Was  there  a  telegram  for  him?"  There 
was,  and  he  opened  it  hastily : 

Brereton  known  to  have  been  wounded  early  in 
the  fight;  missing.*  May  be  a  prisoner ;  advise  giving 
that  suggestion  to  Mrs.  Brereton.  Cannot  expect 
anything  more  for  a  long  time. 

R.    G.  HlNMAN. 

Jack's  legs  grew  suddenly  weak,  and  he  sat 
down  on  a  convenient  barrel.  For  a  minute, 
not  more,  Mr.  Roberts  hesitated,  and  then 
handed  him  the  telegram  just  as  it  was.  He 
should  at  least  have  the  comfort  of  knowing 
the  whole  truth  and  in  giving  his  mother  this 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE."       179 

shadow  of  hope ;  he  should  know  just  what 
foundation  it  rested  on.  It  would  increase  his 
confidence  in  his  friend  and  rouse  him  to 
greater  effort  to  sustain  his  composure  if  he 
was  sure  he  knew  all  there  was  to  know. 

Jack  read  the  few  words  with  devouring 
eagerness,  and  then  the  hand  which  held  the 
bit  of  yellow  paper  dropped  weakly  beside 
him,  and  a  mist  came  before  his  bright  eyes. 
"  Some  water,  Trenchard,"  said  Mr.  Roberts, 
"I  have  been  a  fool;  he  is  but  a  child,  after  all. 
I  have  given  him  too  much  to  bear." 

The  cool  contact  of  the  water  to  his  lips, 
and  a  few  light  drops  upon  his  face,  brought 
back  the  dauntless  spirit,  stunned  for  a  moment 
by  the  dreadful  certainty  divulged  to  him  ;  he 
held  out  his  hand  to  Mr.  Roberts  and  said 
softly :  "  Thank  you,  sir.  Now  I  know  just 
wThat  I  ought  to  do." 

Mr.  Roberts  walked  to  the  open  door  ;  he 
was  less  calm  than  was  this  plucky  boy,  and 
when  he  turned  back  into  the  shop,  Jack  was 


180      NORTH  AND  SOUTH  of  "dixie's  line." 

upon  his  feet  and  trying  to  explain  to  his  old 
friend  the  postmaster  what  they  had  heard. 

"  Read  the  telegram,  Trenchard,  and  be  sure 
to  show  a  copy  of  it  to  Mr.  Thornton  when  he 
comes  for  his  mail.  Tell  any  one  who  asks, 
that  the  report  is,  'wounded  and  missing.' 
After  all,  we  may  find  this  is  good  news,  one 
of  these  days;  he  may  have  been  carried  to 
some  field  hospital  or  other  shelter.  We  are  not 
going  to  give  up  hope  easily,  are  we,  Jack?" 

Jack's    silence  was  not  broken  for   a   long 
part  of  their  homeward  walk;  he  was  thinking 
intently.     Stopping  on  the  roadside  he  looked 
up  earnestly  at  Mr.  Roberts.     « If  father  had 
died  from  that  wound,  don't  you  think  there 
was    a   greater    chance    of    his    being   found? 
Searching  parties  went  over  the  field ;  our  regi- 
ment did   not   leave   the  ground  in    a   panic. 
Some  of    our  surgeons    staid  as    prisoners    to 
care  for  their  own  men ;  if  he  was  carried  to  a 
Confederate    hospital   they  would    know  him. 
We  might  hear  through  them." 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE."       181 

"Yes,  Jack,  your  reasoning  is  good  both 
ways.  If  he  were  dead,  I  think  he  would  have 
been  found ;  if  alive,  our  surgeons  will  bring 
the  first  news,  and  doubtless  they  will  be  soon 
exchanged.     Non-combatants  always  are." 

"Would  it  be  right  to   tell  mother  that?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  It  would  not  be  deceiving  her  ?  " 

"  Xot  a  bit,  dear  boy  ;  I  think  it  is  most  prob- 
able. I  thought  you  would  be  the  first  to  see 
daylight  if  there  was  any." 

The  distance  which  had  sometimes  seemed 
long  between  the  post-office  and  his  own  gate, 
was  terribly  short  to-day,  and  they  were  at 
home  far  too  quickly,  Jack  thought.  How 
could  he  tell  his  mother? 

Mr.  Roberts  read  his  thoughts :  "  Let  me  try 
to  give  the  news  to  Mrs.  Brereton." 

"Oh!  if  you  only  would,"  said  Jack;  "but 
don't  deceive  her,  Mr.  Roberts,  or  she  will  never 
take  any  comfort  in  what  you  say  afterward." 

Mrs.  Brereton  again  came  to  meet  them  and 


182       NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE." 

Mr.  Roberts  stepped  in  advance  of  Jack.  She 
saw  before  he  spoke  that  he  had  something  to 
tell ;  there  was  a  chair  on  the  veranda  and  she 
sat  down  suddenly,  without  speaking.  "  He 
has  been  heard  from,  Mrs.  Brereton,  and  I 
believe  he  has  been  carried  southward  as  a 
prisoner." 

"  Was  that  what  the  telegram  said  ?  " 

"  No  ;  only  that  he  had  been  wounded  early 
in  the  fight  and  was  not  found  afterward.  Let 
us  hope  that  he  is  not  only  living,  but  being 
kindly  cared  for :  our  surgeons  staid  as  volun- 
tary prisoners  to  care  for  the  wounded." 

Jack's  arms  were  around  her  before  all  these 
words  were  said :  "  Something  tells  me  he  is 
safe,  mammy  dear  ;  try  to  believe  so,  too.  I 
feel  sure  he  is  alive  and  thinking  of  us  all." 
His  kisses  seemed  to  bring  a  faint  glow  to  her 
pale  cheeks.  She  rose  in  an  unsteady  way, 
and  leaning  for  a  moment  on  his  strong  young 
shoulder,  said,  with  a  tearful  voice : 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Roberts ;  I'll  have  to  ask 


4 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE."       185 

you  to  excuse  me,  please,"  and  they  saw  her 
go  slowly  to  her  room.  Jack  did  not  try 
to  follow  her;  he  knew  she  went  to  seek 
strength  upon  her  knees,  and  he  had  learned 
to  feel  as  if  angels  always  waited  for  her 
there. 

It  was  now  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
and  Mr.  Roberts,  looking  at  his  watch,  said : 
"I  do  not  like  to  leave  you  alone,  old  fellow, 
but  I  suppose  I  ought  to  go  down  by  that  five- 
fifty  train.     Could  I  help  you  if  I  staid  ?" 

"No,  sir,  thank  you;  I  suppose  there  is  noth- 
ing to  be  done  now  but  to  be  patient  and  wait. 
I  shall  never  forget  your  goodness  to  us,"  and 
Jack  had  hard  work  to  get  it  out.  "  Oh  !  I  do 
thank  you  for  telling  me  the  whole  truth." 

"  At  first  I  feared  I  had  made  a  mistake ;  that 
it  was  too  much  for  you." 

"  O,  no  indeed !  This  is  the  only  way  for 
me  to  be  of  any  good  to  mother.  You  can 
easily  see  that,  can't  you,  Mr.  Roberts  ?  " 

"Yes;  that  was  my  idea  from  the  first;  but 


186       NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  «  DIXIE'S  LINK." 

has  Mrs.  Brereton  no  relative  near  enough  to 
be  a  help  to  you  both  ?  " 

"No,  sir;  I  have  an  aunt  in  Iowa,  but  I  never 
saw  her,  and  father's  people  come  from  Maine; 
but  the  only  ones  left  are  my  grandfather,  who  is 
very  old,  and  my  Uncle  George.  After  Grand- 
mamma died,  father  never  went  to  the  old  place ; 
I  don't  think  mother  knows  them  very  well." 

Mr.  Roberts  again  looked  at  his  watch.  "  I 
will  wait  for  the  six-twenty,"  he  said.  "Sit 
down,  Jack,  and  don't  think  me  rude,  but  tell 
me  — who  is  your  father  in  business  with?" 

"  He  is  not  in  business  with  any  one  now ; 
he  was  head  book-keeper  for  Mr.  Robson,  but 
he  lost  his  position  when  he  went  to  the  war." 
Mr.  Roberts'  face  expressed  a  painful  sur- 
prise. "What  has  your  mother  to  depend 
upon  ?     What  do  you  live  on  now  ?  " 

Jack's  story  w^as  soon  told.  "I  thought  I 
explained  that,  Mr.  Roberts."  Going  into 
careful  particulars,  the  pathetic  little  history 
was  all  made  plain. 


NORTH  AND   SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S   LINK."       187 

Growing  excited  over  its  unfolding,  Mr. 
Roberts  rose  and  walked  up  and  down  as  he 
questioned  and  listened.  With  intense  satis- 
faction he  heard  that  the  house  was  theirs 
without  an  outside  claim ;  but  for  the  rest,  the 
rich  man  could  form  but  little  conception  of 
how  it  was  all  done.  Living;  on  what  Jack  and 
his  mother  earned,  to  guard  the  precious  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  the  little  treas- 
ure of  that  hoarded  half-month's  pay,  seemed 
to  him  impossible.  How  often  had  such  a  sum 
as  this  been  spent  for  the  merest  fancy  of  an 
idle  hour !  He  was  in  an  atmosphere  wholly 
new  to  him  and  could  not  realize  its  possibility. 
Yet  Jack  had  no  fears  about  money,  and  his 
fathers  prolonged  absence  caused  him  no 
anxiety  on  that  account. 

"We  are  doing  splendidly  so  far,"  he  said. 
"  I  am  earning  a  good  deal  of  money  for  a  boy, 
don't  you  think  so?  We  don't  owe  a  cent, 
and  we  have  really  had  enough  all  the  time. 
Can  you  see  any  better  way,  Mr.  Roberts  ?  " 


188       NORTH  AND  SOUTH   OF  "DIXIE'S   LINE." 

"No  one  could  improve  on  your  own  plan, 
my  dear  Jack,  and  I  hope  I  shall  never  forget 
what   you   have   proved  can   be  done  with   bo 
little.     Let  things  rest  as  they  are,  and  remem- 
ber to  be  as  proud  of  your  mother  as  you  are 
of  your  brave  father.    She  is  a  model  for  every 
soldier's  wife  in  the  country.     But  keep  in  re- 
membrance  that    she   is   to  have  everything, 
everything,  Jack,  she  can  ever  need,  and  don't 
work  beyond  your  strength.    She  would  rather 
lean  on  you  as  much  as  possible,  I  know,  but 
you'll  have  to  take  me  for  an  uncle,  and  give 
me  a  chance  to  help  too.     How  do  you  think 
Uncle  Chris  sounds  for  a  comfortable  old  un- 
cle's name?" 

"  Time  is  up,"  interrupted  Jack,  who  knew 
the  train  times  as  well  as  the  station  agent. 
"If  you  have  to  go,  you'll  be  obliged  to  hurry 
even  now,  Mr.  Roberts." 

"Good-by,  then,  old  man;  perhaps  I  may 
be  here  again  to-morrow.  God  bless  you," 
and  suddenly  stooping,  to  Jack's  intense  sur- 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE."       189 

prise  he  kissed  him  and  walked  off  at  a  great 
pace. 

Going  slowly  back,  Jack  saw  his  mother  at 
the  upper  window  with  Flossy  in  her  arms 
and  he  waved  to  the  child,  who,  unconscious 
of  all  sorrow,  Muttered  her  chubby  hands  and 
pounded  on  the  glass  in  answer,  laughing  de- 
lightedly at  her  own  noise.  Jack's  spirits  rose ; 
he  had  forgotten  Floss  —  she  could  always  bring 
a  bright  smile  to  his  mother's  face.  Dolly  and 
she  would  be  the  best  of  comforters. 

Tea-time  had  come  again.  The  light-hearted 
little  ones  must  be  fed,  and  to  be  strictly  true, 
Jack's  young  appetite  could  not  be  wholly 
quenched  even  by  sorrow.  He  had  scarcely 
eaten  what  would  suffice  for  a  good  meal  since 
the  morning  of  the  previous  day,  so  he  too  was 
ready ;  and  blessed  necessity,  which  is  the  aid 
and  spur  of  so  many  suffering  women,  gave 
Mrs.  Brereton  energy  and  interest  in  preparing 
the  food. 

They  were  in  the  midst  of  a  nearly  silent 


190       NORTH   AND   SOUTH  OF  u  DIXIE* 8   LINK." 

meal,  when  Jack  heard  a  strange  sound  out- 
side, and  hurrying  out,  in  nervous  expectation 
of  he  knew  not  what,  found  his  pompous  friend 
Michael  standing  on  the  veranda.  Had  the 
President  of  the  United  States  suddenly  ap- 
peared, Jack  could  hardly  have  been  more 
astonished  than  by  the  liveried  figure  of  this 
man  who  seemed  to  him  an  essential  part  of 
Mr.  Thornton's  front  door.  He  would  have 
offered  to  shake  hands,  but  Michael's  hands 
were  full,  for  he  held  carefully  a  basket  of  the 
most  beautiful  flowers  Jack  had  ever  seen. 

"  That's  for  your  mother,  God  bless  her !  " 
said  Michael,  his  warm  Irish  heart  having 
broken  down  all  his  grand  manners.  "  Mr. 
Thornton  was  going  to  send  Rooney  down  with 
'em,  but  I  would  let  no  one  else  touch  'em  ;  and 
could  I  give  'em  to  her  myself,  do  you  think?" 

"  Certainly,  Michael !  Come  in  and  I'll  call 
her  at  once." 

u  No  ;  I'll  just  wait  here,  if  she'll  please  to 
come." 


"  THATS    FOR    YOUK    MOTHER,"    SAID    MICHAEL. 


NORTH  AND   SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S   LINE."       193 

Only  telling  her  that  Mr.  Thornton's  Michael 
wanted  to  see  her,  Jack  followed  her  to  the 
door.  No  sooner  had  she  lifted  her  gentle,  sad 
eyes  to  Michael's  red  and  excited  face,  than  the 
good  fellow's  color  became  crimson,  and  every 
muscle  worked  convulsively.  Lovely  at  all 
times,  the  beautiful  resignation  in  her  heart 
gave  a  hallowed  charm  to  Mrs.  Brereton's  ex- 
pression and  reminded  Michael  of  the  face  of 
a  saint,  and  he  could  just  manage  to  hand  her 
the  flowers  without  crying  outright,  and  he 
stammered  out  something  about  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton's having  sent  them,  while  the  bulk  of  his 
message  remained  pent-up  in  his  throat. 

•Mrs.  Brereton  took  the  basket  with  a  look 
of  such  delighted  surprise  that  Jack  blessed 
Mr.  Thornton  and  thanked  the  bearer  warmly. 
But  Michael's  most  precious  gift  he  had  nearly 
forgotten  in  his  excitement.  Mr.  Thornton 
had  received  a  letter  from  a  newspaper  corre- 
spondent, directly  from  the  battle  field,  in  which 
was  given  all  that  was  known  of  the  gallant 


194       NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE." 

conduct  of  the  regiment,  its  present  status  and 
position,  the  list  of  the  killed  and  wounded, 
and  of  those  who  were  prisoners,  their  proba- 
ble destination.  This  he  had  sent  by  Michael. 
"Mr.  Thornton  says  it's  every  word  to  be  de- 
pended on,  ma'am,  and  he  is  to  have  every 
scrap  of  news  about  your  regiment  from  time 
to  time,  through  the  same  person,  and  you  are 
to  have  it  the  minute  it  comes,  and  he  bids  me 
inquire  particularly  how  you  are." 

Jack  almost  snatched  the  envelope  from 
Michael's  hand,  but  his  mother  checked  his 
eagerness  and  found  calmness  enough  to  cor- 
dially thank  and  fully  answer  the  earnest  ques- 
tions of  poor  Mike.  Bidding  Jack  carry  the 
flowers  into  the  house  she  held  out  her  hand 
and  said :  "lam  grateful  to  you  also,  Michael, 
for  your  kindness  to  my  boy." 

"  Lord  love  you,  ma'am,"  said  the  man,  "  he's 
as  good  as  sunshine  on  a  rainy  day.  You  nor 
no  one  else  ever  saw  such  a  boy !  Why,  Mr. 
Thornton  would  give  his  eyes  for  him.     You 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE."       195 

may  not  know  that  his  chief  trouble  in  this 
world  is  his  only  son,  and  if  he  ever  coveted 
anything  in  his  life  it  is  your  son  Jack,  Mrs. 
Brereton  ;  and  all  ever  he  can  do  for  him  he 
surely  will;  you  may  count  on  that.  He  always 
points  him  out  to  visitors  and  says,  'That's 
the  best  boy  I  ever  saw.'  Now  ain't  that  a 
comfort  to  you  in  your  trouble,  ma'am  ?  " 

"It  is  indeed,  Michael,  it  is  indeed.  God 
alone  knows  what  I  should  do  without  him." 

Five  minutes  after  Michael  had  disappeared 
the  mother  and  son  were  devouring  the  graphic, 
brilliant  letter  of  Mr.  Thornton's  correspondent, 
and  through  it  they  followed  the  fight  from  its 
bold  beginning  to  its  sad  end  with  breathless 
haste.  What  they  read  of  the  wounded  was 
only  partly  true,  for  details  of  what  befell 
within  the  Confederate  lines  were  unobtain- 
able, and  we  will  rather  follow  our  soldier's 
real  adventures,  than  with  them  read  a  faulty 
history. 

Early  in  the  fight,  before  the  fearful  confu- 


196       NORTH  AND   SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S  LINE." 

sion  of  the  general  battle  had  reached  its 
height,  Brereton  had  fallen,  wounded  in  the 
leg,  not  far  above  the  knee.  He  fell  just  where 
he  had  been  struck  and  lay  right  in  the  onward 
track  of  the  advancing  troops ;  but  with  diffi- 
culty he  rolled  himself  inward  toward  a  gulley, 
near  a  broken  fence. 

Many  wounded  and  some  dead  men  lay 
within  the  radius  in  which  he  could  clearly 
discern ;  beyond,  things  dim  and  uncertain 
were  scattered  everywhere ;  were  they  men  ? 
He  could  not  tell. 

The  fierce  melee  grew  more  fierce ;  smoke, 
cries,  sounds  of  shot  and  shell,  red  glare,  dying 
in  dull  heavy  clouds  of  grimy  mist,  flags  faintly 
seen  at  intervals  when  the  wind  blew  back  the 
gray  curtain  —  all  this  he  watched  with  a  gaze 
ever  weakening,  yet  ever  more  painfully  intent. 

Then  came  a  noise  like  the  rush  of  a  mad 
sea,  and  past  him  fled  thousands  of  defeated 
and  bewildered  men,  scarce  knowing  where 
they  went.     The  cloud  lifted  little  by  little  as 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  OF  "  DIXIE'S   LIXE."       197 

the  artillery  hushed  its  awful  roar,  the  smoke 
moved  in  a  fitful  drooping  line  like  a  heavy 
drapery  partially  drawn,  and  slowly  dispersed, 
drifted  in  torn  fragments,  hither  and  thither, 
and  showed  him  the  wide  plain. 

By  and  by  more  orderly  and  solid  detach- 
ments of  troops  passed  on,  near  or  far,  but 
always  one  way,  going  back,  going  back;  his 
weak  senses  gathered  this  much  at  least :  the 
battle  was  lost  and  his  defeated  comrades  were 
in  fast  retreat. 

Xo  one  saw  him,  no  one  heard  him ;  he  was 
to  be  left  there  on  that  terrible  field.  Slowly 
it  came  to  him,  but  it  was  surely  true.  He  had 
many  to  bear  him  company,  but  no  one  spoke, 
none  cast  a  glance  his  way;  if  any  lived,  they 
testified  to  their  existence  only  by  an  occasional 
groan. 

Fainter  and  fainter  grew  his  perceptions ;  the 
strange  murmur  of  the  departing  hosts  sounded 
but  weakly  in  his  dull  ears;  he  ceased  to  watch 
the  retreating  figures  of  his  own  corps,  or  mark 


198       NORTH   AND   SOUTH  OF  «  DIXIE'S  LINE." 

the  advance  of  their  successful  foes;  and  when 
he  next  was  conscious  of  anything,  he  was 
lying  on  some  straw,  in  a  jolting  farm  wagon, 
heavily  laden  with  suffering  men,  going  on 
their  way  to  Sudley  Church,  which  had  been 
turned  into  a  temporary  hospital,  and  where 
the  brave,  unselfish  surgeons  of  the  defeated 
Federal  army  made  themselves  willing  pris- 
oners, for  the  sake  of  their  otherwise  deserted 
comrades.  These  were  indeed  the  true  heroes 
of  this  dark  day  —  those  maimed  and  bleeding 
prisoners  and  their  generous  physicians. 


VIII. 

A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

SUDLEY  CHURCH  was  a  place  of  terrible 
sights  and  sounds,  and  poor  John  Brere- 
ton  had  his  full  share  of  the  personal  bodily 
pain  which  tormented  those  around  him ;  but 
his  loving  wife  and  boy  would  have  hailed  with 
joy  the  certainty  that  he  lived  and  was  receiv- 
ing such  care  as  the  place  and  time  permitted. 
Many  of  the  pews  had  been  removed  to 
facilitate  the  surgeons'  work  and  placed  out- 
side the  church,  under  the  shadow  of  its  walls ; 
they  were  used  as  temporary  couches  for  the 
wounded,  where  they  might  wait  their  turn  for 
removal  within.  And  on  one  of  these  lay  our 
soldier.  Oh !  how  he  longed  for  water,  not 
alone  to  drink,  but  for  the  refreshment  of  its 

touch  upon  his  forehead  and  burning  cheeks ; 
199 


200  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

there  is  no  thirst  like  that  which  follows  a  gun- 
shot wound. 

With  what  a  yearning  desire  his  thoughts 
turned  homeward !  The  beloved  faces  rose 
clear  and  life-like  before  him,  until  to  his 
weakened  fancy  they  seemed  to  actually  bend 
over  him. 

Thus  lying,  half-aware  of  his  real  condition, 
half-cheated  into  a  vision  of  the  dear  ones  far 
away,  he  closed  his  weary  eyes,  hoping  sleep 
might  come,  and  trying  to  shut  out  the  horrid 
picture  of  a  poor  Zouave  who  lay  dying  beside 
him. 

Slowly  he  lost  consciousness,  and  was  only 
roused  by  the  sudden  light  of  a  lantern  thrust 
close  to  his  face.  Two  surgeons  examined  him, 
without  troubling  him  with  questions,  while  an 
officer  in  the  gray  uniform  of  the  Confederate 
army  made  a  note  of  his  regiment  and  condi- 
tion. The  lantern  showed  but  dimly  what  they 
desired  to  see ;  there  was  a  discussion  about 
amputation,  but  mercifully  Brereton  only  half- 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  201 

comprehended  what  was  said.  The  elder  man 
strenuously  opposed  any  present  operation,  and 
lifting  the  poor  fellow's  head,  supported  it  upon 
his  arm  and  put  a  canteen  of  water  to  his  lips. 
It  was  the  most  delicious  drink  he  ever  took  in 
his  life,  and  revived  by  the  long  draught  he 
said :  "  Thank  you,"  with  a  fervor  which  was 
unmistakable.  The  old  doctor  said  kindly:  "I 
wish  I  had  some  food  for  you,  but  that  is  not 
obtainable.  Keep  up  your  courage,  and  it  will 
come  by  and  by.  You'll  be  able  to  keep  that 
leg,  I  think,  and  will  feel  stronger  to-morrow. 
Meantime,  we  will  take  this  poor  fellow  out  of 
your  way;  you  are  none  the  better  for  his  close 
company."  Raising  the  Zouave,  they  laid  him 
on  the  ground,  a  little  nearer  the  church  wall, 
and  Brereton  saw  that  he  was  quite  dead,  and 
could  dimly  discern  his  distorted  face,  sur- 
mounted by  the  red  fez,  which  gave  him  a 
ghastly  and  horrible  grotesqueness. 

While    they  were    dressing   his    wound   he 
made  out  clearly  that  it  was  a  Federal  surgeon 


202  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

who  was  caring  for  him,  and  catching  his  arm, 
he  whispered  :  "Where  am  I  to  go?" 

"  You  are  a  prisoner,  and  will  probably  be 
sent  farther  South  to-morrow." 
"And  you,  Doctor?" 

"I  am  a  prisoner  too,  but  voluntarily,  and 
being  a  non-combatant,  am  likely  to  have  an 
early  exchange." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Brereton,  pulling  weakly  at 
his  coat,  "could  you  get  a  line  to  my  wife?" 

"  I  can  try,  but  I  am  afraid  it  won't  be  very 
soon."  He  pulled  out  a  note-book  and  took 
the  name  and  address. 

"  Just  tell  her  I  am  alive,  and  where  they 
send  me,  if  you  know." 

"I  won't  forget.  I  will  see  you  to-morrow 
if  I  can,  but  we  have  no  idea  what  will  be  done 
with  us.     Good-night." 

The  figures  moved  away  into  the  darkness, 
the  twinkling  lantern  pausing  over  many  a 
prostrate  form,  and  it  was  not  Brereton's  good 
fortune  to  see  the  kind  surgeon  again. 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  203 

The  night  was  one  of  suffering  and  exhaus- 
tion; he  could  not  turn;  he  lay  on  the  narrow 
hard  seat  of  the  high-backed  pew,  as  rigid  as 
if  he  were  in  a  coffin  ;  he  was  growing  weaker 
and  weaker  from  hunger,  but  he  could  think 
with  some  clearness,  and  realized  his  position 
and  surroundings.  In  the  early  morning  he  was 
lifted  into  a  wagon  filled  with  straw  and  sent 
slowly  on  his  weary  journey  toward  Richmond, 
helpless  in  every  way,  without  even  the  power 
to  raise  himself  to  take  the  welcome  milk  which 
was  distributed  before  they  made  their  first 
start.  And  here  we  must  leave  him,  for  our 
story  is  Jack's  story,  not  his  father's. 

The  eventful  day  which  had  at  once  killed 
hope  and  enkindled  it  again,  by  first  showing 
them  that  they  had  no  possible  chance  of  see- 
ing their  soldier  soon,  and  then  bringing  them 
ground  for  faith  in  his  being  yet  alive  and 
pointing  to  a  possible  day  of  reunion,  was  fol- 
lowed   by  a  bright   morning,  at  the  dawn  of 


204  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

which  Jack  sprang  out  of  bed  and  made  ready 
for  his  work. 

At  the  first  sound  his  mother  roused  ner- 
vously.    «  What  are  you  doing,  Jack?" 

u  I  thought  I  had  better  go  to  work,  mother 
dear.  I  feel  as  if  it  was  more  important  than 
ever  now.     Can  you  spare  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  son;  you  are  right.  I  will  get  up  and 
see  to  your  breakfast  at  once." 

"  No,  please  don't ;  there  is  plenty  of  milk  and 
bread  and  butter  downstairs,  and  I  want  you  to 
take  what  rest  you  can  to-day.  You  can  have 
a  j°%  good  lunch  ready  for  me  when  I  get 
home,  mammy  dear."  He  came,  as  he  spoke, 
to  kiss  her  "good-by,"  and  she  held  his  face 
close  to  hers  long  enough  to  ask  a  silent  bless- 
ing on  his  dear  head,  and  then  let  him  close 
the  door  between  their  rooms  and  lay  still  as 
he  had  asked  her  to  do. 

He  made  his  wholesome  breakfast  hastily, 
for,  by  his  own  determination,  he  had  two 
errands  before  he  went  to  Mr.  Holtin's.     He 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  205 

ran  down  to  the  station  and  bought  a  morning 
paper  for  his  mother,  knowing  well  how  she 
would  long  for  every  printed  word  ;  then  he 
stopped  to  ask  'Becca  to  go  to  the  house,  and 
gave  her  the  paper  to  cany  with  her.  «  Don't 
call  anybody,"  Jack  said,  "  but  just  slip  in  the 
kitchen  way  (I  left  the  door  unlocked)  and 
have  everything  ready  when  mother  comes 
down,  and  try  to  keep  her  from  getting  tired 
if  you  can,  'Becca." 

"Indeed  I  will,  Jack,  and  you  are  not  to  talk 
to  me  about  pay,  neither,  mind  that!  It  won't 
hurt  me  to  help  Mrs.  Brereton  through  her 
trouble  ;  she  has  been  the  best  friend  me  and 
my  mother  ever  had.  When  your  father's  back 
safe  and  sound,  please  God,  you  can  look  out 
for  my  asking  big  wages,  and  standing  up  for 
myself." 

Jack  had  no  hesitancy  in  letting  'Becca  show 
her  gratitude  to  his  mother  in  her  own  honest 
way,  and  said  :  «  All  right,  'Becca,  for  this  day 
it  is  agreed  that  you  work  for  love,  and  I  thank 


206  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

you  very  much."  After  getting  a  little  way  on 
his  road  he  turned  back.  "  There  are  some 
lovely  flowers  in  the  cool  closet  near  the  milk ; 
get  them  out  and  have  them  on  the  table  for 
mother  to  see." 

"Yes,  I'll  remember,"  said  Rebecca,  and 
starting  in  the  opposite  direction,  added  in  her 
mind  a  word  of  heart-felt  praise  for  the  boy. 

Mr.  Holtin,  looking  out  of  the  window,  was 
surprised  to  see  Jack  at  work,  and  hastened 
down  to  speak  with  him.  "  This  is  not  neces- 
sary, Jack,"  he  said ;  "  I  did  not  expect  you 
this  week.     Have  you  received  any  news?" 

Jack  gave  the  substance  of  what  they  had 
heard,  and  explained  why  he  thought  he  ought 
at  once  to  resume  his  labor.  Mr.  Holtin  offered 
him  a  cordial  hand.  u  You  are  wholly  right, 
my  boy,"  he  said,  "though  between  us  there 
would  have  been  no  counting  of  days  in  times 
like  these ;  but  beside  the  money  you  are  so 
anxious  to  earn,  nothing  can  be  so  good  for 
keeping  up  your  own  courage  and  your  mother's 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  207 

strength,  as  to  resume  your  ordinary  habits  and 
live  as  useful  lives  as  you  can.  You  must  try 
to  forget  we  are  pupil  and  master  and  come 
freely  to  me  for  advice  and  help  ;  you  have 
shown  yourself  so  much  of  a  man  that  I  can 
not  treat  you  as  a  child  any  more." 

Jack's  eyes  glistened,  and  he  gave  the  lawn 
some  rather  severe  and  dangerous  rakings, 
which  he  had  to  smooth  down  again,  but  he 
could  only  say:  "Thank  you,  sir,"  and  hope 
that  Mr.  Holtin  understood  how  grateful  he 
was  for  such  helpful  words. 

Weeks  passed,  and  life  settled  into  its  old 
lines,  except  for  the  ever  fresh  and  ever  more 
terrible  war  news,  and  for  the  great  change  in 
Mrs.  Brereton  ;  she  grew  paler  and  thinner  day 
by  day,  until  Jack  used  to  say,  trying  to  jest 
over  what  sorely  troubled  him:  "Mammy  dear, 
you  make  me  think  of  the  snow  melting  before 
the  sun;  some  day  I'll  come  home  and  you  will 
have  vanished  altogether."  She  was  very  play- 
ful with  the  little  girls,  active  to  a  degree  which 


208  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

put  all  the  rest  of  her  busy  life  to  shame,  for 
she  could  not  keep  still;  and  no  boy  ever  had 
a  more  ideal  comrade  than  Jack  found  in  her, 
but  through  it  all  she  was  wearing  away,  under 
the  longing  and  suspense  and  pain  which  never 
left  her  heart. 

Suddenly,  as  if  it  dropped  from  the  heavens 
above  them,  one  day  a  letter  came,  and  it  read 
thus : 


Washington,  D.  C,  August  20,  1861. 
Dear  Madam  : 

On  the  night  after  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  T  saw 
your  husband  at  Sudley  Church,  Ya.  He  was  a  pris- 
oner, and  severely  wounded  in  the  leg,  but  I  have  full 
confidence  that  he  will  survive  and  regain  the  use  of 
the  limb.  I  personally  examined  the  wound,  and  did 
what  I  could  to  relieve  him. 

He  begged  me  to  communicate  with  you  and  give 
you  such  comfort  as  this  opinion  might  bring.  I  en- 
deavored to  see  him  a  second  time,  but  he  was  carried 
toward  Richmond  early  the  next  morning,  and  I  had 
no  means  of  hearing  how  he  was. 

This  is  the  first  opportunity  I  have  had  to  fulfill 
my  promise,  and  I  fear  you  have  been  without  direct 
news  of   him  until  now,  so  that  at  this  late  day  it 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  209 

may  be  a  relief  to  receive  even  this  unsatisfactory 
report. 

I  trust  he  will  be  exchanged  at  an  early  day,  and 
restored  to  those  who  love  him. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Rogp:r  Seatox, 

Surgeon  U.  S.  A. 

This  letter  was  like  a  shower  in  time  of 
drought ;  it  assured  them  of  a  reasonable 
ground  of  hope,  and  gave  the  endorsement  of 
a  medical  man  to  the  chances  of  his  outliving 
his  suffering. 

The  unceasing  kindness  of  Mr.  Thornton, 
who  was  never  done  sending  Mrs.  Brereton 
delicacies  and  wTine  and  flowers,  made  Jack 
hasten  to  tell  him  of  this  bit  of  comfort,  and 
his  dear  "  Uncle  Chris,"  writh  whom  he  wTas  in 
constant  communication,  must  be  told  also. 
Friends  they  had  in  abundance,  and  they  were 
those  who  could  on  the  one  hand,  like  Mrs. 
Paxson  and  poor  'Becca,  aid  by  personal  en- 
deavor with  kindly  hands,  or,  like  these  two 
rich  and  powerful  men,  bring  the  resources  of 


210  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

great  influence  to  their  assistance.  Jack  hardly 
knew  which  gave  him  most  joy,  the  sense  of 
certainty  that  his  mother  could  command  such 
help,  or  the  fact  that  so  far,  by  God's  help  and 
their  own  labor,  they  owed  no  one  anything 
but  love  and  gratitude. 

August  passed,  and  September  days  were 
half-over,  when  a  strange  adventure  befell 
Jack,  which  was  far  pleasanter  to  think  of, 
after  it  was  a  thing  of  the  past,  than  while  it 
was  in  progress.  It  came  on  a  Sunday,  one  of 
those  on  which  'Becca  and  Jack  kept  house, 
and  all  his  life  through  it  will  remain  fresh  in 
his  memory,  and  in  these  days  his  children  love 
to  hear  him  talk  of  it. 

The  day  was  still,  and  calm,  and  bright ;  a 
blue  haze  was  on  the  hills,  and  soft  warmth  in 
the  air,  a  gentle  look  of  resignation  over  all  the 
green  things  of  the  earth,  abiding  God's  will 
in  this  autumn  time,  when  their  growth  was 
ended,  and  their  hour  to  die  drew  near.  Mrs. 
Brereton  had  been  in  church  perhaps  a  quarter 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  211 

of  an  hour,  and  Jack  sat  on  the  front  steps, 
trying,  after  his  Sunday  fashion,  to  plan  out 
his  work  for  the  coming  week,  and  spying  out 
the  first  red  and  yellow  leaves  which  began  to 
show  themselves  here  and  there,  with  a  longing 
wonder  whether  his  father  might  come  back 
ere  they  fell,  when  he  was  startled  by  seeing 
'Becca  standing  behind  him.  He  had  noticed 
that  she  did  not  seem  happy  when  she  came, 
and  that  she  was  less  able  to  please  the  chil- 
dren than  usual,  and  now  she  stood  looking 
nervously  up  the  road. 

"  Jack,"  she  said,  "  did  you  ever  hear  tell 
of  them  Zouavers,  up  to  Tuckahoe  ? " 

"  Xo,"  said  Jack ;  "  what  are  they  ?  " 

"  Well,  they're  kind  of  soldiers,  dressed  up 
like  fantasticals." 

"What  are  fantasticals  ?"  again  questioned 
Jack,  more  and  more  puzzled. 

"  Oh !  queer  people,  dressed  up.  I  seen  'em 
onct  in  a  purcession  to  New  York.  Well,  them 
Zouavers  is  a  awful  bad  lot,  and  my  father  said 


212  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

for  you  and  me  to  be  careful,  and  If  we  saw  any 

of  'em  about  to  go  right  in  and  lock  the  door." 

"Why,  what  could  they  do  to  us,  'Becca? 


DID   YOU   EVER   HEAR   TELL  OF   THEM   ZOUAVERS  ?  " 


If  they  are  soldiers  they  are  all  right.  I  re- 
member now  that  Col.  Ellsworth's  men  were 
called  Zouaves,  and  I  believe  they  were  rather 
rough,  but  they  would  not  harm  us." 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  213 

"  Oh !  you  don't  know  anything  about  it,  Jack. 
My  father  read  it  out  of  the  Herald  newspaper, 
and  my  cousin  that's  a  fireman  on  the  railroad, 
says  that  the  people  up  the  road  is  scared  to 
death  of  'em.  They  won't  stay  in  camp,  not 
for  nobody,  and  they  go  about  and  take  all 
they  can  find  to  eat.  They'll  snatch  a  pot 
right  off  the  fire  and  carry  off  folks'  dinners, 
and  last  week  twenty  of  'em  went  over  to 
Mar'nick  to  the  camp  meeting,  and  took  every 
blessed  thing  in  the  whole  camp;  the  camp- 
meeteners  hadn't  so  much  as  a  loaf  of  bread 
left  when  they  cleared  out.  O,  Jack !  I'm 
awful  skeered  of  'em,  and  this  house  is  so 
kinder  lonely.  Hadn't  we  better  go  in  and 
lock  up  now  ?  " 

Jack  thought  the  matter  over  ;  it  certainly 
did  not  sound  pleasantly  to  hear  that  such 
visitors  might  appear.  After  a  minute  or  two, 
he  said  :  "  Xo,  'Becca.  If  we  locked  up,  they 
could  easily  get  in  by  the  parlor  windows. 
Father  always  said  those  windows  could  be  very 


1J14  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

easily  opened,  and  then  we  should  be  worse  off, 
for  they  would  see  we  were  afraid  and  be  angry 
beside.  Anyhow,  I  don't  see  what  should  bring 
them  way  down  here,  and  if  they  did  come,  I 
don't  believe  any  United  States  soldiers  would 
hurt  us.  It  doesn't  sound  to  me  like  a  true 
story,  'Becca.  You  better  stay  upstairs  with 
Baby  and  Dolly,  and  if  anybody  comes  you  can 
lock  the  door  and  keep  still." 

"  They  might  kill  you,  Jack." 

"  Oh  !  never,  Beck.  What  on  earth  would 
they  kill  a  fellow  like  me  for?  Don't  let's  talk 
about  such  things  and  get  scared,  or  we'll  be- 
have like  geese  if  anything  does  happen. 
You've  made  me  feel  queer  as  it  is,  and  you 
see  I  would  have  to  stay  and  stick  it  out,  no 
matter  what  came,  for  there  is  nobody  else  to 
take  care  of  anything ;  and  beside  father  made 
me  a  sort  of  a  soldier,  and  I'm  under  a  solemn 
promise." 

"  Well,  couldn't  you  spare  me  to  go  home, 
Jack  ?  " 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  215 

"No,  'Becca ;  I  think  mother  would  feel  very 
badly  if  you  left  the  children,  and  you  know 
she  has  trouble  enough  already." 

'Becca  knew  full  well  that  she  ought  to  stay ; 
her  better  feelings  prevailed  as  she  looked 
about  her  and  saw  only  the  loveliness  of  a  per- 
fect September  day,  and  heard  nothing  more 
terrible  than  the  sweet  autumnal  notes  of  a 
song-sparrow,  so  she  went  back  into  the  house, 
and  took  Dolly  upstairs  to  sit  beside  Baby. 

Jack's  peace  however,  was  gone,  and  in  its 
place  a  nervous,  eerie  sensation  had  possession 
of  him,  which  he  could  not  fight  off.  The 
clear  crow  of  his  favorite  old  Captain  Bragg, 
declaring  himself  easily  monarch  of  the  small 
poultry  kingdom,  called  him  toward  the  yard, 
and  he  stood  among  the  pretty  flock  and  amused 
himself  with  their  droll  ways,  as  he  threw  some 
corn  among  them.  Suddenly  his  excited  per- 
ceptions caught  a  sound  altogether  new  to  his 
ears  ;  it  was  the  steady,  rythmical  sound  made 
by  the  tread  of  men,  marching  in  quick  time  ; 


21G 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 


a  curious  beat  in  unison,  like  machinery  in  mo- 
tion, and  above  it,  he  heard  a  wild  sort  of  song 
rolling  out  on  the  still  air,  in  a  tone  of  reckless 
jollity  altogether  in  sharp  contrast  with  the 
hush  of  the  sweet  country  place,  keeping  God's 
holy  day  in  peace. 

Jack  felt  at  once  that  a  great  trial  was  com- 
ing upon  him;  something  told  him  that  those 
swift-coming  steps  would  surely  stop  at  his 
gate.  He  was  a  good  boy,  and  trained  from 
the  time  he  could  think  at  all,  to  ask  God's 
help  and  blessing,  and  since  his  father's  de- 
parture, "saying  his  prayers"  had  gained  a 
new  meaning ;  but  now  he  learned  in  an  instant, 
what  trust  in  God  and  a  passionate  appeal  for 
his  help  meant.  Words  he  had  none,  but  a 
silent  cry  went  up  to  Heaven,  heard  by  his 
Heavenly  Father,  though  his  tongue  was  dumb; 
he  asked,  he  knew  not  how,  for  protection  to 
his  baby  sisters,  and  that  he  should  be  able  to 
do  his  duty.  He  feared  much,  though  he  hardly 
knew  what;  a  sickening  dread  lest  he  should 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  217 

lose  his  self-control,  overwhelmed  him.  Could 
it  be  possible  that  he  would  run  away?  For 
a  minute  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  resist  the 
impulse.  The  struggle  was  but  for  a  moment, 
yet  Jack  felt  as  if  half  an  hour  had  passed. 

With  a  tremendous  effort  Jack  turned  back, 
and  going  up  the  steps  of  the  front  veranda, 
stood  erect,  facing  the  road.  He  knew  he  had 
conquered,  and  grew  able  to  think  and  see. 

Tramp,  tramp,  tramp  they  came,  and  at  the 
gate  stood  six  or  eight  white-turbaned  men, 
with  red  uniforms,  and  big  baggy  trousers 
hanging  over  gaitered  leggings.  They  were 
not  in  the  least  like  Jack's  idea  of  soldiers. 
The  song  had  ceased;  tramp,  tramp,  tramp, 
the  few  grew  into  the  many,  and  Jack  had  no 
idea  how  many  men  he  saw. 

Poor,  proud  old  Captain  Bragg  gave  a  loud, 
defiant  crow;  over  the  fence,  disdaining  to 
open  the  gate,  scrambled  and  leaped  the  crowd, 
talking  loudly,  laughing,  pushing  one  another 
aside,  in  their  race  for  the  door.     Jack  heard 


218 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 


a  faint  scream  overhead  and  knew  that  'Becca 
had  seen  her  fears  realized. 

«  Here,  youngster,  find  that  rooster  for  us ; 
come  —  hustle,  jump,  be  quick  !  " 

"  What  do  you  want  of  him?"  said  Jack  in 
as  energetic  a  tone  as  he  could  muster. 

"Never  you  mind,  Sonny,"  said  one  big  fel- 
low, taking  him  by  the  shoulder;  "you'd  better 
wheel  about  and  do  as  you're  told." 

Two  or  three  men  pushed  past  the  boy  into 
the  house.  Jack  was  at  his  wits' end;  within 
were  the  little  girls;  anything '  outside  had 
better  go  than  have  the  house  ransacked. 

Loudly  again  crew  the  cock.  «  Ah  !  there 
you  are,  are  you  ?  "  shouted  one  of  the  free- 
booters, and  leading  the  way  to  the  tidy  little 
inclosure,  was  followed  by  fully  half  of  the 
party,  and  Jack  knew  by  the  wild  cries  of  the 
hens,  that  they  were  being  caught  and  killed. 
Wise  enough  not  to  interfere  in  their  behalf, 
he  put  all  his  energies  into  an  effort  to  get  a 
hearing  from  one  of  the  mad  crowd  left  nearer 


A    VISIT    FROM    COKPOBAL    AMOS.  221 

him.  Among  them  stood  a  man,  wearing  the 
chevrons  of  a  corporal  on  his  sleeve  ;  he  did 
little  more  than  laugh  at  the  others,  and 
seemed  to  be  heedless  of  his  share  of  the 
plunder. 

Jack,  white  as  his  broad  Sunday  collar 
walked  up  to  him,  and  touched  his  sleeve, 
"  Please,  sir,"  he  said,  "  my  father  is  a  soldier. 
He  has  gone  to  the  war  ;  my  mother  is  at 
church,  and  my  two  little  sisters  are  upstairs, 
and  I  am  the  only  one  to  take  care  of  them ; 
would  you  please  ask  the  soldiers  not  to  frighten 
them?" 

The  man  turned  and  looked  full  at  the 
slender,  straight  young  figure  and  resolute  face 
of  the  lad,  and  said  : 

"  Well  done,  young  feller  !  you're  a  plucky 
one.  Do  you  know  who  you're  talking  to? 
Do  you  know  who  we  are?  We've  helped 
ourselves  to  our  own  provender  in  this  neigh- 
borhood for  some  time  now,  and  by  George, 
you're  the  first  man  who  hasn't  shown  the  white 


222  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

feather.  Why,  boy  alive,  we're  the  famous  Fire 
Zouaves,  and  I  am  Corporal  Amos !  Don't 
frighten  the  babies,  eh  ?  Well,  that's  a  joke 
worth  telling." 

Jack  stood  his  ground;  he  had  spoken,  and 
not  been  killed  on  the  spot ;  he  would  try  again. 
There  was  something  in  the  man's  eyes  which 
was  reassuring  to  our  young  soldier.  His  knees 
shook  a  little,  but  he  went  on  : 

"  Please,  Corporal,  two  or  three  of  your  men 
are  inside  now,  and  if  you  would  only  go  in 
and  see  what  they  are  doing.  We  are  trying 
to  keep  things  nice  until  father  comes  back, 
and  there  is  nothing  worth  taking  except  a 
very  few  things,  like  mother's  wedding  spoons 
and  her  watch ;  please  don't  let  them  take  that 
Please  don't  let  them  do  any  harm." 

"  You  seem  to  think  I'm  the  best  of  the  lot, 
monkey;  that's  not  the  general  opinion,  but 
you  deserve  some  help,  for  you're  a  plucky 
one  and  no  mistake." 

"  Well,  you  see,  Corporal,  I  feel  sure  the  men 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORFORAL    AMOS.  223 

would  feel  different,  if  they  knew  father  was  a 
soldier,"  said  Jack.  "  If  you  would  just  tell 
them  that,  it  might  do  some  good." 

Corporal  Amos  led  the  way  with  unerring 
instinct,  and  strode  into  the  kitchen.  Already 
confusion  reigned,  and  three  or  four  men  were 
ransacking  every  corner.  Instantly  pouncing 
upon  Jack,  one  of  them  took  him  by  the  collar. 
"  Here,  show  us  your  dinner  !  Where  is  your 
Sunday  dinner  ?     Quick  now." 

u  We  don't  have  dinner  now  father's  gone ; 
we  are  trying  to  save  everything  for  him,"  said 
Jack. 

M  Here,  come  off,  boys,"  said  Corporal  Amos 
in  a  strong;  voice  which  claimed  their  atten- 
tion ;  "  this  boy  has  got  the  grit  of  Andrew 
Jackson,  and  he  tells  the  truth.  Let  the  house 
alone  and  don't  bother  him.  His  daddy  has 
gone  to  the  war,  and  he's  commander-in-chief. 
You've  got  all  his  chickens,  and  that's  enough." 

The  men  looked  at  Jack,  and  into  the  open 
drawers  and  closets  which  contained  so  little, 


224  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

and  felt  some  spark  of  dead  humanity  rising  in 
their  breasts. 

A  sad  crying  was  heard  from  the  floor 
above. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  Jack,  with  the  most 
straightforward  simplicity;  "wait  until  I  go 
upstairs  and  get  my  little  sisters;  they  are 
frightened ;  then  I'll  give  you  all  I  have ; 
father  would  not  grudge  anything  to  soldiers." 

He  darted  upstairs,  and  returned  almost  as 
quickly,  with  the  two  little  girls,  both  of  whom 
were  crying,  Baby  in  his  arms  and  Dolly  hold- 
ing on  to  his  jacket. 

The  robbers  of  the  chicken  yard  began  to 
crowd  into  the  house  also.  "  Wait  a  minute," 
said  Jack  again  ;  «  would  you  like  some  ginger- 
bread and  milk?  I  have  plenty  of  ginger- 
bread, and  a  good  deal  of  milk,  and  if  you 
would  ask  the  men  to  go  out  on  the  piazza, 
Corporal,  I'll  bring  it  to  them.  Would  you 
mind  holding  Flossy  a  minute?" 

A  queer  look  crept  over  the  bold  man's  face; 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  225 

something  gathered  in  his  eyes  which  would 
not  stay  there,  but  fell  in  two  large  unwonted 
drops,  such  as  had  not  touched  his  cheeks  in 
many  a  year ;  he  took  the  frightened  child 
in  his  arms,  as  gently  as  her  mother  could  have 
done,  and  ordered  his  men,  themselves  silenced 
and  bewildered  by  this  strange  ending  to  a 
marauding  expedition,  to  come  out  of  the 
house.  They  gathered  in  a  puzzled  group 
upon  the  little  veranda,  and  a  minute  or  two 
sufficed  for  Jack's  preparations,  to  entertain 
these  extraordinary  guests.  He  came  out  with 
a  pail  of  milk  and  a  dipper,  followed  by  Dolly 
carrying  a  large  wire  sieve  on  which  their 
mother  had  left  her  delicate  ginger  cakes  to 
cool,  the  night  before.  Jack  made  an  ex- 
change ;  took  Flossy  and  gave  the  pail  to  the 
corporal,  and  then  stood  in  the  door  to  see  the 
men  enjoy  the  refreshment  he  had  provided. 

In  the  midst  of  this  rare  lunch  Mrs.  Brereton 
appeared  at  the  gate. 

"Corporal,"  said  Jack,  "that's  my  mother; 


226 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 


would   you  please  go   and   tell  her  about  it; 
slid]  be  scared  to  death  to  see  you  all  here." 

Unconscious  Jack,  aided  and  blessed  as  he 
had  prayed  lie  might  be,  had  put  his  precious 
mother  under  the  rude  and  vice-hardened  man's 
protection,  and  given  him  the  proudest  moment 
of  his  life.  Mrs.  Brereton  stood  still  at  the 
gate,  trembling  with  alarm. 

«  Come  in,  madam,"  said  the  corporal ;  "  don't 
be  frightened,  your  boy  has  given  my  men  a 
little  refreshment  ;  they  have  killed  your 
chickens.  I  couldn't  help  that ;  you  see  they 
must  have  something;  but  that  youngster  of 
yours  has  taken  the  starch  out  of  them  as 
completely  as  ever  I  see  anything  done  in  this 
world,  and  there  is  nothing  wrong  inside." 

Utterly  dazed,  Mrs.  Brereton  made  no  an- 
swer, but  walked  forward  beside  the  untama- 
ble Zouave,  whose  name  was  a  terror  to  his 
own  companions,  her  delicate  loveliness  en- 
hanced by  his  uncouth  and  strange  appear- 
ance.    On   the  threshold   and   on   the  ground 


A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS.  227 

before  the  steps  lay  the  bags  filled  with  the 
dead  fowls,  and  their  blood  bespattered  the 
neat  floor  of  the  veranda.  The  wild-looking 
men  scrambled  to  their  feet,  in  doubt  what 
might  happen  next,  seeing  Corporal  Amos  so 
evidently  taking  care  of  such  a  dainty  lady. 

Flossy  held  out  her  arms,  and  Dolly  took 
courage  to  pass  between  the  men  to  meet  her 
mother.  The  soldiers  gathered  up  their  booty 
and  stood  irresolute,  not  knowing  what  to  do. 

"  Fall  in.  About  face.  Forwrard,  march," 
ordered  Corporal  Amos,  and  they  wheeled  into 
line  and  with  the  tramp  which  had  so  terrified 
Jack,  marched  downward  to  the  gate,  appar- 
ently glad  of  a  solution  to  their  puzzling 
position. 

«  Madam,"  said  the  corporal,  "  your  boy  has 
saved  your  property,  and  done  me  more  good 
than  a  parson.     What's  your  name,  Kid?" 

"Jack  Brereton." 

"  Well,  shake  hands,  Jack  Brereton ;  you  are 
the  first  man  that  ever  got  the  better  of  Cor- 


228  A    VISIT    FROM    CORPORAL    AMOS. 

poral  Amos,  and  don't  you  forget  it !  You'll 
have  no  more  trouble  with  the  Zouaves,  I'll 
guarantee." 

Mrs.  Brereton,  still  amazed  by  all  she  saw, 
and  unable  to  rid  herself  of  the  fright  she  had 
received  with  that  first  vivid  picture,  seen  from 
the  gate,  tried  to  respond  to  the  evident  kind- 
ness in  the  man's  tone  and  manner. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  "we  are  lonely  and 
unprotected,  and  I  should  be  glad  to  think 
they  would  not  come  again." 

"Be  satisfied  about  that,  ma'am;  they've 
made  their  last  visit  here;"  and  he  ran  swiftly 
forward,  leaped  the  low  fence  and  joined  his 
men,  now  tramping  back  toward  their  camp. 


IX. 

JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

STEPPING  over  her  soiled  veranda,  Mrs. 
Brereton  led  the  way  into  the  disordered 
kitchen,  where  everything  lay  strewn  about  in 
wild  confusion.  She  felt  a  sort  of  faintness 
coming  over  her  at  the  evidences  of  what  Jack 
had  encountered  single-handed. 

"  Where  is  'Becca?"  she  asked. 

"  I  really  don't  know,  mother ;  I  heard  her 
scream  just  as  the  men  came  toward  the  house, 
and  when  the  children  cried  and  I  went  up  for 
them,  she  was  nowhere  to  be  seen." 

Mrs.  Brereton  looked  about  hopelessly  for  a 
moment  and  then  said  :  "  I  must  go  and  change 
my  dress.  Bring  the  children  up,  and  we  will 
look  for  her." 

No  sign  of  the  missing  'Becca  could  they  find, 
229 


>30 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 


until  Dolly  suddenly  said,  pointing  to  the  lad- 
der which  led  to  the  loft:  "'Becca  went  up 
there  when  the  ugly  men  came."  And  there, 
sure  enough,  they  found  her,  crouching  under 
the  lower  eaves,  and  when  Jack  opened  the 
narrow  door  which  led  to  her  hiding-place,  she 
greeted  him  with  a  loud  scream.  Assured 
that  the  dreaded  "Zouavers"  were  all  gone, 
she  was  coaxed  by  Mrs.  Brereton's  earnest  en- 
treaties to  come  down  slowly,  pausing  on  every 
step,  and  seeming  to  doubt  the  evidences  of  her 
own  senses,  that  no  fiery  coats  or  white  turbans 
were  in  sight. 

Once  in  the  kitchen,  her  housewifely  in- 
stincts helped  her  to  recover  her  equilibrium  ; 
the  desire  to  restore  order  out  of  such  a  chaos, 
mastered  her  alarm  so  that  she  could  go  to 
work.  And  after  Jack  saw  her  really  begin  in 
earnest,  he  made  his  sad  pilgrimage  to  his 
silent  poultry  yard,  in  which  not  one  fowl  re- 
mained. A  few  half-grown  little  chicks  had 
been  slain   in  pure  wantonness,  and  left  with 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        231 

twisted  necks,  lying  here  and  there,  but  not 
one  comely  hen  remained  to  greet  him.  Gath- 
ering up  the  bodies  of  his  pets,  Jack  sadly 
closed  the  gate  and  went  into  the  house,  really 
disheartened  and  out  of  courage.  Gradually, 
however,  under  his  mother's  cheering  influence, 
he  realized  more  fully  what  might  have  been 
the  result  had  the  minds  of  these  lawless  men 
taken  a  different  bent,  and  in  the  light  of  her 
gratitude,  the  loss  of  his  poultry  looked  far 
less  distressing. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  was  taken  up  with 
efforts  to  restore  the  house  to  its  wonted  order, 
and,  Sunday  though  it  was,  'Becca  and  Mrs. 
Brereton  were  vigorously  busy  until  the  early 
sundown  of  the  autumn  day.  Jack  removed 
the  blood  stains  from  the  veranda  and  felt  as 
if  he  were  performing  some  mysterious  funeral 
rites  for  Captain  Bragg  and  his  plump,  gray- 
feathered  wives. 

These  raids  of  the  far-too-active  Zouaves 
always  raised  a  great  stir  in  the  direction  of 


232   JACK  DECIDES  TO  LEAVE  SCHOOL. 

their  march,  and  before  night,  hearing  of  their 
visit  to  the  Brereton  cottage,  many  people 
came  to  know  whether  they  had  done  any 
serious  injury,  and  Mrs.  Brereton  was  glad 
when  the  evening  was  over  and  the  trying  sub- 
ject could  be  dropped. 

Somehow,  although  Mrs.  Brereton  said  little 
to  rouse  it,  the  vigorous  questioning  of  her 
visitors  drew  out  a  clear  showing  of  Jack's 
manly  conduct,  and  a  flood  of  praise  poured  in 
upon  him  which  surprised  him  very  much. 
When  the  story  reached  Mr.  Thornton's  ears, 
he  rode  down  to  congratulate  Jack  and  see  for 
himself  the  true  state  of  the  case,  and  he  was 
not  sparing  of  his  warm  commendation. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Thornton,"  said  Jack,  "  it's  all  a 
mistake.  When  I  first  saw  them,  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  from 
running  away." 

"  Ah  !  but  you  didn't.  That's  what  we  are 
all  proud  of,  Jack." 

Fortunately  for  the  boy,  he  could  not  see  for 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        233 

himself  that  there  was  any  glory  in  standing 
by  the  house  and  his  little  sisters  ;  he  had  too 
vivid  a  remembrance  of  his  temptation  to  cow- 
ardice to  be  very  much  puffed  up  by  the  view 
other  people  took  of  his  conduct,  and  was  more 
influenced  by  his  mother's  direct  tendering  of 
thanks  for  their  release  from  peril,  to  God 
who  had  protected  them.  Jack  would  not  have 
been  Jack  if  he  had  been  able  to  see  himself  as 
others  saw  him. 

On  the  next  Sunday  morning  he  was  startled 
by  a  vigorous  crowing  in  the  direction  of  the 
chicken-house,  and  hurriedly  getting  on  some 
clothes,  he  went  out  to  see  what  it  meant.  On 
the  gate  of  the  poultry-yard  was  a  piece  of 
fool's-cap  paper,  with  a  scrawling  inscription  : 

"  With  the  compliments  of  Corporal  Amos. 
Hope  they're  the  right  breed.  Couldn't  find 
any  'round  Tuckahoe,  or  would  have  sent  them 
sooner." 

Stolen,  Jack  was  sure  these  pretty  creatures 
were,  but  wherever  they  came  from,  he  was 


234   JACK  DECIDES  TO  LEAVE  SCHOOL. 

powerless  to  do  anything  more  than  accept 
them,  and  they  were  as  fine  "  Plymouth  Rocks  " 
as  he  had  ever  seen  ;  a  big,  proud-looking  cock 
and  six  fat  motherly  hens,  and  it  was  delight- 
ful once  more  to  see  the  deserted  place  occu- 
pied. There  was  a  pleasure,  too,  in  receiving 
this  token  of  good- will  from  one  whose  charac- 
ter had  been  made  plain  to  him  by  the  startling 
descriptions  of  the  people  who  came  to  inquire 
about  what  they  called  "  the  Zouaves'  raid." 

Jack's  "Uncle  Chris"  gained  a  very  clear 
idea  of  the  whole  thing  by  quietly  questioning 
the  boy  as  to  each  step  of  the  approach  and 
retreat.  He  knew  well  that  he  received  the 
unvarnished  truth,  and  he  grew  more  than 
ever  envious  of  Jack's  parents,  and  wished  for 
some  chance  to  serve  him.  The  only  thing  he 
could  do  at  the  present  time  was  to  help 
restock  the  still  wofully  diminished  poultry 
yard,  and  in  a  few  days  a  trio  of  rare  birds,  the 
like  of  which  Jack  had  never  seen,  arrived  by 
express,  and  the  village  carpenter  came  with 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        235 

an  order  from  Mr.  Roberts  to  build  a  separate 
"  run  "  for  them.  Jack's  eyes  danced  with  de- 
light;  if  he  could  raise  stock  from  these  birds 
he  could  command  a  high  price  even  for  the 
egcrs,  and  there  were  none  such  in  all  the 
neighborhood. 

When  Mr.  Roberts  came  to  examine  the 
birds  in  their  new  quarters,  Jack  laughed  and 
said  :  "  It  is  almost  worth  having  a  visit  from 
the  corporal  to  own  these  beauties ;  but  I  am 
afraid  father  will  miss  old  Captain  Bragg,  he  t 
was  so  fond  of  him.  He  raised  him  from  a 
chick,  and  he  had  so  many  funny  ways." 

Mr.  Roberts  envied  Jack's  hopeful  spirit,  and 
wished  that  he  felt  any  confidence  in  his 
father's  return  to  mourn  over  Captain  Bragg's 
loss.  Many  prisoners  and  wounded  men  had 
died  since  that  awful  day  in  July  ;  who  could 
tell  what  Brereton's  fate  had  been  ? 

A  grave  question  now  rose  in  Jack's  mind : 
school  or  no  school?     What  more  could  he  do? 


236   JACK  DECIDES  TO  LEAVE  SCHOOL. 

The  care  of  Mr.  Holtin's  grounds  must  end 
with  the  cold  weather ;  even  now  there  was  but 
little  to  be  done.  The  grass  rarely  required 
cutting,  and  to  gather  the  dying  leaves  was  the 
chief  work.  The  Thornhill  family  would  go  to 
New  York  before  Christmas ;  what  was  he 
to  do  to  fill  these  lost  places  ?  School  began 
on  the  twenty-second  of  September,  and  he 
must  decide  before  that. 

At  last  he  took  courage,  and  when  he  handed 
the  mail  to  Michael  he  asked  him  to  inquire  if 
it  was  a  convenient  time  for  Mr.  Thornton  to 
see  him.  In  a  moment  Michael  returned  and 
said  Mr.  Thornton  would  see  him  in  the  study ; 
and  there  Jack  found  his  ever  kind  employer, 
seated  at  a  large  writing  table  covered  with 
books  and  papers. 

AVithout  rising,  Mr.  Thornton  held  out  his 
hand  and  with  a  cordial  smile  said :  "  Any  news 
from  your  father  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Jack,  embarrassed. 

"  I  was  in  hopes  you  had  come  with  good 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        237 

tidings.  I  am  sorry  they  are  so  long  in  com- 
ing. Well,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  I  see  you 
have  something  very  weighty  on  your  mind." 

aI  only  want  advice,  Mr.  Thornton.  Do 
you  think  I  ought  to  go  back  to  school  this 
winter?" 

"  Why,  bless  my  soul,  yes  !     Why  not  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  Mr.  Thornton,  I  must  earn 
money.  My  work  at  Mr.  Holtin's  is  nearly 
over,  and  when  you  go  to  New  York  the  mail 
carrying  will  stop  ;  I  must  find  something  else 
to  do,  and  it  would  be  almost  impossible  for 
me  to  find  early  and  late  jobs  in  winter,  before 
and  after  school,  as  I  was  able  to  do  this  sum- 
mer. Don't  you  see  how  it  will  be,  Mr. 
Thornton?" 

"  Oh !  as  far  as  what  you  earn  here,  that 
will  go  on  just  the  same ;  there  will  always  be 
something  to  be  brought  up  to  the  house." 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Thornton,"  said  proud  Jack, 
coloring  crimson.  "  I  am  too  young  to  be  a  pen- 
sioner ;  that  would  not  do  at  all,  but  if  you  can 


238        JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

advise  me  about  some  other  real  work,  where 
the  money  could  be  honestly  earned,  I  should  be 
very  glad,  and  I  could  tell  in  a  minute  whether 
I  was  able  to  do  it  or  not,  and  whether  it 
meant  school  or  no  school." 

Mr.  Thornton  rose  and  walked  up  and  down 
the  long  room  several  times,  and  then  said  : 
"  I  see  what  you  mean,  and  you  are  right, 
Jack  ;  doing  work  as  you  desire  to  do  it  is 
the  most  priceless  education  you  can  get;  it 
is  indeed  leading  you  out  into  the  right  way. 
Have  you  Latin  enough  to  know  what  educa- 
tion means?  If  you  have  not,  look  up  educo 
in  your  dictionary  and  see.  Your  three 
months'  service  is  going  to  be  a  famous  lead- 
ing forth  and  drawing  out  for  you,  worth  more 
than  any  other  schooling  could  have  been. 
And  since  independence  and  power  to  aid  your 
mother  is  so  important  to  you,  I  agree  with 
you,  that  until  your  father's  fate  is  ascertained, 
or  he  can  return  to  you,  paying  employment  is 
the  first  thing  to  be   considered,  and  we  will 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        239 

find  it  if  we  can.  What  does  Mr.  Roberts 
say?" 

"  I  haven't  laid  the  matter  before  him ;  the 
truth  is,  Mr.  Thornton,"  and  Jack  blushed,  "  he 
wants  to  do  too  much  for  me,  and  I  am  afraid 
to  tell  him  my  difficulties.  I  believe  he  would 
pay  me  for  going  to  school  if  I  would  let  him." 

"  I  daresay,  I  daresay,"  said  Mr.  Thornton 
thoughtfully  ;  "  he  is  very  rich  and  almost  alone 
in  the  world,  and  he  is  very  fond  of  you,  Jack. 
But  he  is  a  very  clear-headed  man  of  business, 
and  I  would  ask  him ;  be  frank  and  tell  him 
just  what  you  feel." 

"  School  begins  next  Monday,  and  I  wanted 
to  make  up  my  mind  before  the  beginning  of 
the  term.      I  hope  I  have  not  troubled  you  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all ;  come  as  often  as  you 
like,  and  remember  if  I  should  forget  to  speak 
of  it  later,  that  my  books  are  always  at  your 
service.  If  you  should  decide  against  school, 
read  all  you  can,  take  anything  you  want  from 
here  and  keep  them  as  long  as  you  like  ;  only 


240        JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

be  careful  that  Dolly's  fingers  do  not  meddle 
with  them." 

Jack  thanked  him  and  went  on  his  home- 
ward way,  but  Mr.  Thornton  continued  his  rest- 
less walk  up  and  down,  up  and  down  the  long, 
book-walled  room,  evidently  thinking  intently. 
After  half  an  hour  he  ordered  his  horse  and 
rode  down  to  the  post-office,  where,  calling  to 
an  idle  boy  to  hold  the  bridle,  he  dismounted 
and  entered  the  queer  little  shop,  where  every 
thing  could  be  bought,  from  a  straw  hat  to  a 
plough,  and  where  a  barrel  of  flour  and  a  paper 
of  pins  were  equally  easy  to  find.  Surprised 
to  see  him,  Trenchard  was  greatly  interested 
when  Mr.  Thornton  asked  to  be  allowed  to  go 
into  the  little  private  den  where  the  mail  was 
kept,  and  talk  with  him  privately.  The  con- 
versation was  not  a  very  long  one,  and  when 
it  was  over,  Mr.  Thornton  tossed  a  quarter  to 
the  waiting  boy,  rode  directly  back  to  Thorn- 
hill,  wrote  a  letter  to  Christopher  Roberts, 
Esq.,  and  sent  it  down  to  the  evening  mail. 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        241 

Whether  this  visit  and  letter  bad  anything  to 
do  with  a  notice  which  Jack  saw  posted  above 
the  hole  where  letters  wTere  delivered  wThen  he 
made  his  daily  inquiry  for  his  master,  I  cannot 
tell  you.  Mr.  Thornton  never  spoke  of  it  to 
any  one,  neither  did  Mr.  Roberts,  and  that  these 
two  gentlemen  had  combined  to  propose  that 
Trenchard  should  have  a  clerk  and  then  made  it 
easy  for  him  to  pay  for  his  services,  I  have  no 
right  to  say.  However,  there  was  the  notice, 
duly  posted  :  "  Wanted,  an  active  boy  of  about 
fifteen,  to  assist  in  the  post-office  and  store, 
salary  six  dollars  per  week." 

Jack  started  when  he  saw  this  notice  which 
seemed  like  a  hand  beckoning  to  him.  If  he 
could  only  get  that  place !  Looking  around, 
he  saw  Trenchard  watching  him  while  he 
read  it. 

"  I  suppose  you  will  be  going  back  to  school 
or  you  would  like  that  kind  of  work,  wouldn't 
you,  Jack?  Several  boys  has  'plied  for  the 
situation,  but  nobody  has  come  along  that  suits 


242        JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

me  so  far."  A  very  subtle,  wily  man  old 
Trenchard  had  suddenly  become  ! 

"  What  hours  would  he  have  to  keep  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  need  help  as  early  as  some 
folks  does,  nor  so  late  neither;  from  about 
eight  to  six  would  do  for  me,  and  if  you  wanted 
the  place,  why  I'd  'low  you  a  little  extra  time 
when  you  went  home  for  your  dinner  to  do  up 
your  chores  and  things,  for  it's  always  pretty 
dull  about  noontime  in  Ruremont." 

"  Are  you  sure  that  I  could  do  the  work, 
Mr.  Trenchard?" 

"Oh!  I  guess  so.  It's  more  to  be  honest 
and  careful  than  anything  else ;  count  stamps 
and  sell  'em,  weigh  letters  and  packages,  etc., 
and  to  learn  prices  and  know  how  to  give 
exact  measure  in  the  store.  You  can  write  a 
first-rate  hand  and  I  ain't  afraid  but  you  would 
get  along  well  enough,  if  you  thought  it  was 
best  to  leave  school  so  soon." 

"  Until  father  gets  back  I  must  earn  money, 
and  I  should  not  hesitate  to  leave  school  if  I 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        243 

could  get  steady  work  and  good  pay  like  this. 
If  mother  approves,  I  will  be  very  thankful  to 
take  it,  Mr.  Tren chard,  and  if  I  could  get  a 
little  extra  time  at  noon,  I  don't  see  any  reason 
against  it." 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  the  postmaster  with  a 
quizzical  smile,  "  it  does  look  almost  as  if  the 
place  was  made  for  you,  Jack,  it  suits  you  so 
nicely,  don't  it  ?  Anyhow,  you  had  better  go 
home  and  see  what  Mis'  Brereton  says  about 
it,  and  if  she  thinks  best  you  can  come  to  work 
on  Monday." 

Jack  paused.  "  There's  Mr.  Thornton's 
mail,"  he  said  thoughtfully;  "  he  will  want  to 
have  that  delivered  for  a  month  or  so  more, 
and  I  know  he  would  rather  not  look  for  an- 
other boy  so  late  in  the  year." 

"  Well,  yes "  (the  postmaster  could  hardly 
begin  a  sentence  without  his  favorite  word), 
"that  is  to  be  considered,  but  I  guess  I  could 
spare  you  to  take  that  up ;  it's  sort  of  post- 
office  business,  any  way.     I  think  we  can  man- 


244 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 


age  about  that.     I  am  sorry  your  mother  don't 
get  no  letter." 

Turning  to  wait  on  an  incoming  customer, 
he  left  Jack  to  his  own  reflections,  which 
quickly  sent  him  home  to  consult  with  his 
mother.  Difficulties  lay  in  his  way.  It  would 
be  quite  dark  when  he  reached  home  in  the 
short  winter  days,  and  what  he  could  not  ac- 
complish by  lantern  light  must  be  done  at 
noon.  By  the  time  he  came  in  sight  of  his 
own  gate  he  had  planned  everything,  so  that 
he  could  give  his  mother  a  favorable  view  of 
the  scheme,  and  after  a  quiet  talk  of  half  an 
hour  it  was  decided  that  he  should  accept  this 
blessed  opportunity  of  help. 

In  the  evening  Jack  went  to  tell  Mr.  Holtin 
that  he  should  not  be  able  to  return  to  school, 
and  that  he  would  give  an  early  morning  hour 
occasionally  to  Mr.  Holtin's  grounds  until  frost 
was  hard  enough  to  make  it  unnecessary. 

"  Of  course  I  don't  expect  any  pay  for  it, 
Mr.  Holtin,   for  it   won't    be  worth  anything, 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        245 

but  I  would   like   to   feel  I   had  finished   the 
season  properly." 

"  You  come  when  you  can,  Jack,  to  straighten 
things  out  for  me,  and  come  twice  a  week  in 
the  evening  and  bring  me  a  lesson  in  your 
Latin  grammer  or  your  algebra,  and  we  will 
call  it  square." 

«  Could  I  do  that,  Mr.  Holtin?" 

«  Of  course  you  can,  and  be  more  than  wel- 
come, Jack ;  and  you  can  accomplish  a  great 
deal  if  you  give  your  attention  to  it.  You  will 
be  surprised  at  your  own  progress." 

"  I  don't  think  any  boy  ever  had  such  good 
luck  as  I  have,"  said  Jack.  « I  believe  I  might 
keep  up  with  the  class  if  I  tried  hard.  Oh ! 
thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Holtin." 

Mr.  Holtin  shook  hands,  and  Jack  went 
home  at  racing  speed  to  tell  his  good  news. 

On  Monday,  at  eight  o'clock  sharp,  Jack  en- 
tered the  familiar  "  store  "  and  was  admitted 
into  the  sacred  precincts  behind  the  glazed  frame 


246        JACK     DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

of  boxes  which  indicated  the  post-office.  He 
felt  a  little  awed  at  first,  as  no  one  was  ever 
allowed  to  enter  the  little  inciosure  except 
Mr.  Thornton ;  but  he  soon  began  to  see  into 
the  postmaster's  simple  ways  of  sorting  and 
stamping,  and  consumed  the  first  hour  in  put- 
ting the  Ruremont  stamp  on  incoming  and  out- 
going letters ;  it  seemed  much  like  some  childish 
sort  of  play,  as  the  soft  pit-pat,  pit-pat  fell 
upon  letter  after  letter. 

It  all  came  easily  within  his  power  of  com- 
prehension, and  before  long  the  village  people 
were  rejoiced  when  prompt,  sharp-eyed  Jack 
appeared  at  the  place  of  delivery  instead  of 
slow,  spectacled  Mr.  Trenchard,  who  always 
had  to  look  twice  before  he  was  sure  he  was 
right. 

Mr.  Thornton  showed  much  interest  in  his 
new  duties  and  expressed  great  pleasure  in 
Jack's  finding  such  suitable  work  so  quickly, 
and  if  he  knew  more  than  he  said  about  it  all, 
no  one  was  harmed  by  his  silence,  and  I  think  he 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        247 

was  as  happy  as  Jack  himself  over  the  evident 
good  result.  "  Uncle  Chris,"  too,  highly  ap- 
proved of  the  plan,  and  came  in  occasionally  to 
see  how  Jack  looked  at  the  delivery  window, 
and  amused  himself  by  buying  a  great  many 
more  stamps  than  he  could  easily  use. 

One  dull  day  early  in  October,  Jack  was 
sorting  out  the  mail,  when,  in  the  middle  of  a 
handful  of  letters,  he  saw  one  without  an  en- 
velope, and  written  on  common  wrapping  paper 
which  at  once  attracted  his  attention,  and  turn- 
ing it  over,  he  read  with  eager  delight  the  pen- 
ciled address.  He  uttered  some  involuntary 
exclamation  of  astonishment  in  such  a  strange 
voice  that  Mr.  Trenchard  hastily  opened  the 
narrow  dividing  door  and  asked  what  ailed  him. 

"  Look,  Mr.  Trenchard !  Look  at  that !  It 
is  from  my  father  !  " 

To  convey  an  idea  of  what  Jack's  voice  ex- 
pressed would  be  impossible ;  each  word  was 
louder  than  the  last,  until  "  Father "  could  be 
heard  out  on  the  roadside. 


248        JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

His  old  friend  snatched  the  dirty  bit  of  yel- 
low paper  from  his  hand  and  scanned  it  curi- 
ously on  either  side. 

"  Well,  yes,"  he  said,  "  I  do  believe  you're 
right.  Put  on  your  hat  and  go  straight  home 
to  your  mother.     I'll  attend  to  the  mail." 

Jack  needed  no  second  bidding,  but  catch- 
ing up  his  cap  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 
Amazed  to  hear  his  footsteps  at  that  hour, 
Mrs.  Brereton  came  to  meet  him. 

"  Mother  ! "  he  cried,  "  mother,  look  here  !  " 
He  held  the  precious  bit  of  paper  as  far  in  ad- 
vance of  him  as  the  length  of  his  arm  could 
permit,  and  she  took  it  with  trembling  fingers. 
Then  standing  together,  his  arm  about  her 
waist,  they  read : 

Military  Prison,  Richmond,  Va. 

[September,  1861] 
Dear  Wife  : 

I  hope  there  is  a  chance  that  this  will  reach  you. 
I  am  not  sure  of  the  clay  of  the  month,  but  I  think  it 
must  be  the  twentieth  or  the  twenty-first.  I  can 
only  say  a  few  words  of  love  and  longing.     Though 


LOOK  !    IT'S    FROM    MY    FATHER    ! 


JACK  DECIDES  TO  LEAVE  SCHOOL.   251 

lame,  I  am  well.  We  hear  rumors  that  there  will  be 
an  exchange  of  prisoners  before  long;  God  grant  it 
may  come  soon.  I  hardly  dare  to  send  messages  to 
the  children ;  sometimes  I  dream  that  they  have  all 
gone  from  me.  Keep  faith  in  God's  mercy,  and  have 
courage.  How  have  you  managed  to  supoprt  your- 
self and  the  children  all  this  time?  Oh!  I  fear  you 
have  suffered  much.  Hope  does  not  leave  me;  I  be- 
lieve I  shall  live  to  see  you  again,  and  one  thing  com- 
forts me,  you  have  Jack. 
I  have  no  chance  to  write  more.  God  bless  you ! 
Your  faithful,  loving  J.  B. 

"  Oh !  I  know  we  shall  have  him  back  safe 
and  sound,  I  know  we  shall,"  said  Mrs.  Brere- 
ton,  carried  beyond  all  her  daily  burden  of  care 
and  fear.  "  It  will  not  be  long  now."  Then 
turning,  she  put  her  arms  close  about  her  boy 
and  said  with  the  fervor  of  her  full  heart: 
u  One  thing  comforts  me,  I  have  Jack  !  " 

Accustomed  only  to  his  mother's  quiet  man- 
ner, so  dignified  and  calm  that  it  gave  little 
evidence  of  her  joy  or  sorrow,  the  boy  was 
overwhelmed  by  this  unusual  exhibition  of 
feeling  and  could  answer  nothing,  but  held  her 


252        JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

tightly  to  his  breast,  as  she  stood  for  a  minute 
or  two  with  her  head  resting  on  his  shoulder, 
sobbing  violently. 

But  she  quickly  drew  again  the  rein  of  her 
accustomed  self-control  and  blessed  Jack,  smil- 
ing through  her  tears  and  saying  :  "  Father 
would  not  believe  that  you  had  grown  man 
enough  for  me  to  rest  my  head  upon  your 
shoulder.  You  will  never  be  little  Jack  again, 
you  poor  old  boy  !  " 

After  Dolly  and  Floss  had  seen  the  priceless 
bit  of  paper,  and  been  told  that  it  said,  "  Father 
would  come  by  and  by,"  Jack's  conscience  bade 
him  go  back  to  work,  and  Mrs.  Brereton  gave 
him  the  letter  to  show  Mr.  Thornton  when  he 
carried  the  evening  mail.  How  it  had  come, 
who  sent  it  through  the  lines  - —  for  it  had  been 
mailed  in  Washington  —  served  for  hours  of 
uninterrupted  conversation,  but  all  their  specu- 
lations brought  no  clue.  They  understood  why 
no  mention  would  be  made  in  the  letter,  lest 
harm  to  the  messenger  might  follow,  and  they 


JACK  DECIDES  TO  LEAVE  SCHOOL.    253 

were  happy  in  the  dear  fact  that  once  more 
they  had  seen  his  handwriting,  and  knew  he 
lived  and  hoped. 

After  this  the  autumn  waned  fast,  and  De- 
cember came,  and  death  had  claimed  every 
herb  and  tree  and  flower  except  those  faithful 
symbols  of  hope,  the  evergreens.  Jack's  way 
to  and  from  his  work  often  lay  through  snowy 
paths,  but  they  were  all  well,  and  Jack  and  his 
mother  were  too  busy  to  find  much  fault  with 
the  weather.  The  "  store  "  and  post-office  bore 
ample  evidence  of  the  value  of  the  new  clerk  ; 
the  money  earned  by  the  faithful  workers  suf- 
ficed, and  they  possessed  their  souls  in  patience. 

The  recitations  to  Mr.  Holtin  were  excellent, 
and  the  only  drawback  to  the  plan  was  the 
loneliness  entailed  on  Mrs.  Brereton  ;  but  she 
was  repaid  by  Jack's  delight  in  keeping  pace 
with  his  class. 

Deep  down  in  her  heart  she  had  grieved  to 
have  her  boy  deprived  of  the  advantages  and 
privileges  of  his   companions,  and  it  was  an 


254       JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

immense  satisfaction  not  to  have  him  fall  be- 
hind them  in  his  chief  studies.  She  often 
sighed,  though  it  was  a  proud  sigh,  when  she 
noticed  the  gravity  and  too  early  maturity  of 
her  "  comfort  boy."  Sometimes  she  feared  he 
was  working  too  hard,  but  Jack  even  dreamed 
of  competing  for  the  algebra  prize  at  the 
Christmas  examinations. 

And  Christmas  was  not  far  off  now.  As 
it  drew  nearer,  by  every  train  there  w^ere  com- 
ings and  goings  of  busy  mothers,  intent  on 
future  Christmas-trees  and  thinking  of  stock- 
ings which  would  need  filling ;  the  express 
office  overflowed  with  oddly  shaped  parcels  of 
mysterious  sizes  and  shapes,  and  all  the  de- 
lightful thrill  of  preparation  was  in  the  air; 
even  the  Ruremont  "  store  "  showed  its  feeble 
signs  of  remembering  the  coming  feast,  and 
tried  to  look  gay  and  offer  suitable  goods  to 
its  customers.  The  Breretons'  cottage  alone 
seemed  out  of  harmony  with  the  general  joy- 
ousness,  and  Jack  could  see  no  token  that  his 


JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL.        255 

mother  remembered  that  the  holy  day  was  at 
hand. 

Mrs.  Brereton  looked  very  wan  and  pale, 
and  her  delicate  hands  grew  thinner,  so  that 
Jack  felt  as  if  he  could  easily  crush  them  in 
his  strong  grasp  ;  but  her  cheerfulness  seemed 
more  natural  and  her  smiles  were  more  fre- 
quent since  the  letter  had  brought  such  bright 
hope  to  her  heart.  She  spoke  frequently  now 
to  the  children  of  "  When  father  gets  back," 
without  a  doubt  of  his  return,  yet  Jack  did  not 
venture  to  break  the  silence  she  kept  about 
Christmas. 

But  on  the  Sunday  next  before  the  happy 
day,  to  his  great  relief  she  at  last  spoke  of 
doing  somthing  to  honor  it.  Hitherto  Christ- 
mas had  been  a  foretaste  of  Paradise  to  the 
children. 

"  Jack,"  she  said,  "  we  cannot  have  a  Merry 
Christmas,  and  at  one  time  I  felt  as  if  I  could 
not  try  to  do  anything  while  father  was  in 
prison,  except  to  go  to   church  and  pray  for 


256        JACK    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    SCHOOL. 

him.  But  something  different  is  in  my  heart 
to-day.  I  have  remembered  at  last  that  it  is 
dishonoring  our  dear  Lord  not  to  make  some 
one  glad  for  his  sake,  on  his  dear  birthday. 
We  can't  have  any  presents  except  some  little 
trifles  for  the  children  —  and  you  are  not  a  child 
any  more,  poor  dear  —  but  we  will  have  a  few 
of  our  poorest  neighbors  in,  and  make  a  little 
feast  for  them  on  Christmas  Eve.  It  will  cost 
us  little,  and  we  shall  not  grudge  the  needful 
self-denial,  and  I  believe  it  will  make  us  all 
glad." 

Jack  was  rejoiced. 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 

IX  the  year  1861,  Christmas  fell  on  Sunday, 
and  all  the  previous  week  Mrs.  Brereton 
and  Jack  gave  much  thought  and  all  the  time 
they  could  spare,  to  their  plans  and  prepara- 
tions, and  Dolly  showed  such  delight  in  the  very 
thought  of  its  approach,  that  the  child's  eager 
face  was  their  best  incentive. 

Trenchard's  scanty  stock  afforded  more  room 
for  choice  than  they  required  for  their  small 
purchases  for  the  children's  stockings,  and  for 
'Becca's  small  brothers  and  sisters,  and  Jack's 
noontimes  were  spent  in  bringing  laurel  and 
ground-pine  from  a  place  his  father  and  he 
knew  well.  The  house  must  put  on  its  look  of 
Christmas  cheer. 

'Becca's  whole  family,  the  mother  and  five 
257 


258  CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 

children,  were  invited  to  take  tea  with  them  on 
Christmas  Eve,  and  two  little  half-orphan  boys, 
whose  lives  were  devoid  of  everything  that 
childhood  loves,  were  added  to  the  grotesque 
party,  whose  full  dress  in  some  instances  lacked 
shoes,  and  in  others  consisted  of  clothes  belong- 
ing to  other  people,  either  much  too  large  or 
far  too  small,  as  the  case  might  be. 

The  night  proved  cold  and  sharp,  and  the 
kitchen,  always  an  ideal  room  of  its  class, 
looked  like  a  picture  in  a  story  book,  when 
'Becca,  feeling  much  at  home,  opened  the  door 
and  ushered  in  her  followers.  Her  mother 
brought  up  the  rear  of  the  procession  with  the 
two  forlorn  little  boys.  She  had  done  what 
she  could  to  give  a  motherly  touch  to  their 
worn  clothes,  had  scrubbed  the  small  faces 
until  they  shone  with  soap,  which  must  have 
tried  their  endurance  in  the  application,  and 
brushed  their  hair  straight  up  from  their  fore- 
heads, where  it  stood  stiffly,  giving  them  a  sur- 
prised look  very  comical  to  see.     Holding  one 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING.  259 

in  either  band,  the  good  woman  made  them 
scrape  their  bare  red  feet  upon  the  door  mat 
vigorously,  before  she  allowed  them  to  go  in 
and  speak  to  Mrs.  Brereton. 

There  were  green  wreaths  upon  the  dresser 
and  on  the  mantel-piece  and  over  the  snow- 
white  curtains  at  the  windows,  and  two  tables 
were  put  together  in  the  middle  of  the  small 
room,  with  seats  for  'Becca's  mother  and  the 
seven  little  ones,  and  high  chairs  for  Dolly  and 
Floss  at  what  served  for  the  head  and  foot  of 
the  table.  Jack,  'Becca  and  Mrs.  Brereton 
wrould  be  too  busy  to  sit  down. 

A  pot  of  bright  scarlet  geraniums  in  the  cen- 
ter gave  the  true  Christmas  red  and  green,  and 
round-hearts  and  peppermint-sticks,  oranges 
and  apples,  made  a  great  effect  of  color  and 
brightness. 

Well  knowing  that  the  coming  good  meal 
would  unlock  their  shy  and  silent  tongues,  and 
wras  the  best  means  to  make  them  feel  at  home, 
Mrs.  Brereton  at  once  made  them  sit  down. 


260  CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 

Dolly's  folded  hands  called  them  to  say 
grace,  and  Mrs.  Brereton  standing  behind  her 
chair  earnestly  asked  a  blessing,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  dispense  such  roasted  turkey  and 
mashed  potatoes  and  cranberry  sauce  as  were 
hitherto  unknown  food  to  her  guests.  Mrs. 
Macpherson's  teacup  was  never  allowed  to 
stand  empty,  and  milk  flowed  in  a  constantly 
replenishing  stream  into  the  children's  glasses. 
Jack's  jokes  and  jollity  kept  the  youngsters 
shouting  with  laughter,  and  there  could  be  no 
doubt  that  the  entertainment  was  a  great  suc- 
cess. Griddle  cakes  and  maple  syrup  were 
served  for  dessert,  and  although  'Becca  cooked 
with  lightning  rapidity,  she  could  not  keep 
pace  with  the  demand. 

At  the  very  height  of  the  festivity,  Jack  sud- 
denly saw  to  his  intense  surprise  and  momen- 
tary confusion,  that  Mr.  Roberts  stood  leaning 
against  the  dining-room  door,  looking  on  with 
a  most  amused  expression.  The  front  and  inter- 
mediate doors  had  been  left  open  to  give  more 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING.  261 

air  to  the  now  too  warm  and  redolent  kitchen, 
and  he  had  made  his  way  in  unheard. 

The  intruder  made  a  sign  of  warning  not  to 
betray  his  presence  and  stood  still,  watching 
the  scene  with  great  interest  and  greater  won- 
der. All  this  merriment  and  good  cheer 
afforded  to  these  comfortless  and  hard-pressed 
people  by  those  whose  every  loaf  of  bread  was 
the  result  of  hard  labor,  and  whose  hearts  were 
burdened  with  never-dying  anxiety,  and  sore 
with  the  heavy  discipline  of  sorrow  !  This  was 
the  last  Christmas  he  would  ever  pass  without 
a  share  in  some  such  joy  as  this ;  that  was  the 
first  conclusion  he  arrived  at. 

Then  a  glow  of  affectionate  admiration  rose 
in  his  heart  for  the  delicate,  loving  woman  who 
so  entirely  forgot  herself  in  giving  this  Christ- 
mas feast,  and  he  longed  to  give  her  control  of 
his  full  purse  to  work  her  will  among  those 
whom  she  might  wish  to  aid.  What  had  he 
done  to  make  this  holy  time  a  source  of  blessed 
memories  ?     To  be  sure  he  had  brought  some 


2G2  CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 

carefully  chosen  gifts  now  hidden  in  a  shadowy 
corner  of  the  hall,  but  this  was  but  gratifying 
himself.  Having  too  much  he  had  not  missed 
what  they  cost,  and  feeling  as  he  did  to  all  be- 
neath that  roof,  he  had  but  made  himself  hap- 
pier by  these  purchases.  Another  year  he 
would  do  good  to  those  whom  he  neither  knew 
nor  loved,  and,  if  it  were  possible,  warm  some 
hearts  so  fast  bound  in  the  iron  of  misery  that 
they  had  forgotten  how  to  be  thankful.  A 
sudden  vista  of  possible  joy  opened  before 
him  ;  might  it  come  to  him  to  even  warm  to 
life  some  last  spark  of  human  happiness  in 
the  hearts  of  the  hitherto  evil  and  unthankful 
among  God's  creatures  ? 

Desiring  to  give  'Becca  a  chance  to  rest  and 
eat  her  own  supper,  Mrs.  Brereton  turned  to 
lead  the  children  into  the  parlor,  through  the 
deserted  looking  dining-room,  and  with  aston- 
ishment saw  her  silent  visitor. 

"  One  minute,  Mrs.  Brereton,  please,"  he  said, 
and  raising  his  arm  high,  flung  a  large  handful 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 


263 


of  small  silver  pieces  among  the  little  flock  of 
flushed  and  happy  children.  Instinct  did  not 
wait  for  any  invitation,  but  immediately  a 
scramble  began,  which  resulted  in  their  gather- 
ing what  to  them  was  a  delightfully  large 
harvest  of  bright  coins.  Jack  quickly  equal- 
ized the  amounts  as  far  as  he  thought  neces- 
sary, and  by  the  time  they  had  gotten  over 
this  delightful  surprise,  Mr.  Roberts  was  seated 
at  the  long  closed  piano  rattling  out  jigs  and 
reels  in  a  way  that  enchanted  them  all. 
'Becca's  mother,  who  lingered  to  see  that  in 
her  turn  she  was  comfortably  established  at 
the  table,  vibrated  between  the  griddle  and 
the  open  door,  the  very  spirit  of  her  far  away 
youth  coming  back  to  the  sound  of  long  for- 
gotten dances. 

As  soon  as  'Becca's  wants  were  supplied,  she 
and  her  mother  considerately  decided  "  the 
party  was  over"  and  that  "  the  children  better 
return  and  not  bother  the  poor  lady  any  more," 
and  Mrs.  Brercton  did  not  say  "  No,"  for  the 


264 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 


evening  was  passing  quickly  away,  and  'Becca 
had  promised  to  stay  behind  and  get  every- 
thing in  order  for  the  Sunday  morning,  now  so 
near.  Truly  happy  and  quite  unrecognizable 
as  the  pinched  and  nervous-looking  little  ones 
who  had  arrived  two  hours  earlier,  the  small 
party  were  soon  on  their  homeward  way,  laugh- 
ing and  talking  at  the  top  of  their  shrill  voices. 

No  sooner  were  they  gone  than  Mr.  Roberts 
came  forward  with  Jack  and  said  :  «  Mrs.  Bre- 
reton,  this  boy  says  that  he  is  still  supperless, 
and  I  have  a  craving  to  taste  those  cakes.  I 
think  I  remember  how  they  used  to  taste  in 
New  Hampshire,  when  I  was  a  boy;  could 
'Becca  make  a  few  for  us  ?" 

This  brought  Jack's  pleasure  to  a  climax, 
and  I  am  bound  to  record  that  the  fastidious 
man  of  many  clubs,  ate  in  a  really  shameless 
way,  plate  after  plate  of  the  pale  brown  cakes, 
and  found  in  the  syrup  the  flavor  and  the 
memory  not  only  of  his  grandfather's  «  sugar 
camp,"  but  something  of  his  boyish  joy. 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING.  265 

Ten  o'clock  drew  near,  and  the  train  must 
be  caught,  and  Jack  walked  down  to  the  road 
with  his  good  friend.  As  he  came  back  he 
halted  at.  the  gate  and  sent  a  fervent,  loving 
"  good-night "  to  his  father  on  the  wings  of  the 
keen  north  wind,  and  felt  that  he  could  report 
his  duty  well  done  for  the  day. 

Returning  to  his  mother,  he  found  her  sit- 
ing before  the  fire,  looking  tired,  but  peaceful 
and  bright.  "  Aren't  you  glad  we  decided  on 
this  way  to  keep  the  feast,  Jack  ?  They  were 
so  happy,  and  it  was  such  a  pleasure !  " 

"  Yes,  mammy  dear ;  and  Mr.  Roberts  says 
you  did  as  much  for  the  rich  as  for  the  poor 
to-night,  for  he  never  knew  the  true  Christmas 
spirit  before.  Wasn't  it  funny  to  see  him  eat 
'Becca's  cakes  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  really  enjoyed  watching  him,  and 
think  I  shall  get  very  fond  of  him  if  he  is  much 
with  us." 

"You  ought  to  be,  mother,  for  he  thinks 
you  are  almost  perfect." 


266  CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 

There  remained  still  for  these  faithful,  lov- 
ing hearts,  the  pleasure  of  filling  the  children's 
stockings  and  the  happy  good-night  caress  to 
each  other,  which  expressed  a  love  which 
needed  no  evidence  in  material  gifts;  and  then 
they  went  to  rest  carrying  their  absent  soldier 
in  their  hearts. 

Christmas  morning  was  cold  and  brilliantly 
clear.  Dolly  was  awake  at  cock-crow,  and 
with  the  happiness  of  the  children,  and  the 
lovely  cheerfulness  of  the  greenery  scenting 
the  house  with  its  spicy  breath,  there  was  no 
lack  of  Christmas  brightness  within  also. 

Both  Mrs.  Macpherson  and  'Becca,  after  their 
own  early  mass,  came  so  that  for  once  Jack 
and  his  mother  might  go  to  church  together, 
and  when  they  returned,  'Becca  had  all  "Uncle 
Christopher's  "  boxes  unearthed  from  their  hid- 
ing place,  and  Jack  found  himself  in  possession 
of  a  fine  overcoat  and  cap  and  gloves.  There 
were  things  useful  and    helpful  for  each  one, 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING.  267 

and  at  noon  a  big  hamper  of  flowers  and  deli- 
cacies came  from  Thornhill,  and  neighborly 
kindness  flowed  in  upon  them  from  many  an 
unexpected  source,  all  the  day. 

Mrs.  Brereton's  eyes  were  lovely  with  grate- 
ful happiness  ;  God  had  given  them  so  much ! 
Yet  deep  down  in  her  heart  there  lay  the 
stron £  craving;  for  one  touch  of  her  husband's 
hand,  one  word  from  his  long  silent  voice. 
Tears  lay  very  near  the  surface  and  occasion- 
ally one  would  fall,  despite  her  smiles. 

The  early  twilight  closed  in ;  Jack,  having 
finished  all  his  out-of-door  work,  coaxed  the 
little  girls  into  the  kitchen  to  give  his  mother 
a  quiet  half-hour  before  tea ;  Mrs.  Brereton, 
thankful  for  the  opportunity,  sat  before  the 
fire  in  the  cosey  little  parlor,  with  the  soft  glow 
shining  on  her  face  and  folded  hands,  and 
leaning  her  head  against  the  high  back  of  her 
chair,  she  looked  up  longingly  at  the  likeness 
of  her  husband  which  hung  before  her,  thickly 
garlanded  with  the  laurel  leaves  which  Jack  had 


-68  CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 

picked  and  cleaned  from  every  speck  of  road- 
side dust. 

At  this  time,  in  sharp  contrast  with  the  com- 
fortable warmth  and  dainty  sweetness  of  this 
room,  there  came  along  the  road  a  lonely  man, 
wearing  a  worn,  defaced  uniform,  and  limping 
painfully.  People  passed  him  in  the  gathering 
dusk,  but  no  one  turned  to  look  at  him  or 
speak,  for  already  worn  garments  and  limping 
feet  were,  alas!  common  enough  among  us, 
and  no  one  knew  this  heavily-bearded  man, 
with  his  sad  look  of  patient  suffering,  plodding 
on  his  painful  way  absorbed  in  thought. 

The  firelight  shone  out  from  the  friendly 
window  of  the  Breretons'  cottage.  He  paused 
to  look  at  it,  and  then,  softly  opening  the 
gate,  went  up  the  path ;  but  not  venturing  to 
step  on  the  veranda,  he  stood  at  its  edge  and 
looked  in.  The  fireglow  sent  a  soft  radiance 
about  the  room,  and  he  saw  distinctly  a  sweet, 
pale  face,  and  a  laurel- wreathed  picture  on  the 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING.  271 

wall.  He  ventured  with  a  stealthy  tread  to 
creep  nearer,  and  pressed  his  face  against  the 
pane.  The  figure  sitting  so  motionless  within 
stirred  not,  except  when  once  with  a  gentle 
hand  she  brushed  the  moisture  from  her  sad 
eyes. 

The  man  stole  on  with  the  noiseless  tread  of 
a  thief  and  turned  the  latch  with  what  seemed 
a  familiar  hand  ;  then,  standing  on  the  threshold, 
he  said  in  a  clear  voice :  "  Mary !  "  With  the 
swift  movement  of  a  wild  bird  she  turned  and 
with  a  cry  of  joy  flung  her  glad  arms  about  her 
husband's  neck. 

The  strange,  sharp  sound  rang  through  the 
house,  and  Jack  came  running  in  white  with 
fear,  and  for  an  instant  in  the  dusk  could  not 
clearly  see  what  was  before  him  ;  but  a  mo- 
ment's hesitancy  was  enough,  this  —  this  was 
his  father  ! 

One  Christmas  day  amid  many  happy  ones, 
always  wore  a  crown  for  Jack.  There  could 
never  be  another  joy  like  this  ! 


272  CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 

Hurriedly  sent  forward  after  an  exchange, 
which,  though  long  looked  for,  came  unex- 
pectedly at  last,  he  had  in  the  end  kept  silence 
purposely,  hoping  to  reach  them  for  Christmas, 
yet  afraid  to  raise  false  hopes.  Delays  had 
come,  and  they  only  reached  New  York  on 
Sunday  morning,  and  as  no  Sunday  trains 
stopped  at  Ruremont  he  had  walked  from  the 
nearest  station,  and  so  come  upon  them 
unobserved. 

Of  course  they  could  only  have  him  to  them- 
selves for  that  blessed,  perfectly  happy  night, 
for,  with  the  morning,  everybody  claimed  a 
share  in  their  returned  hero.  The  house  was 
never  empty;  the  gate  swung  to  and  fro  inces- 
santly, and  there  was  joy  in  every  house  in 
Ruremont  because  John  Brereton  was  safe 
home  from  the  war. 

In  every  way  he  was  blessed  in  his  return. 
Overflowing  with  pride  and  satisfaction  in  his 
boy,  saved  from  immediate  strain  and  anxiety 
by  the   money   so  bravely  kept  for  him,   the 


CHRISTMAS    REJOICING.  273 

long-suffering  soldier  began  to  recover  his  bet- 
ter and  more  natural  looks  and  to  feel  again 
ready  for  the  duties  of  a  peaceful  life. 

Aided  by  such  friends  as  Jack  had  made, 
he  had  not  long  to  wait  for  remunerative  em- 
ployment, which  must  secure  to  him  and  his  a 
future  beyond  fear  of  want,  and  he  went  and 
came,  the  happiest  man  in  the  town. 

On  Jack's  bedroom  wall  hung  a  beautifully 
written  "  honorable  discharge,"  in  which  his 
father  said  in  earnest,  loving  words,  that  he 
had  done  his  duty  as  faithfully  and  manfully 
as  any  man  who  had  "  worn  the  blue  "  through 
those  hard  days,  and  Jack's  children's  children 
will  know  that  he  was  "mustered  in"  in  1861. 

"  Uncle  Chris  "  laid  claim  to  his  adopted 
nephew  with  such  earnestness  that  Mr.  Brere- 
ton  gave  him  his  heart's  desire  and  yielded 
Jack's  education  into  his  hands.  It  was  the 
broadest  and  the  best  the  land  affords,  and 
now  that  the  title  of  the  law  firm  reads 
"  Roberts  and   Brereton,"   Mr.   Roberts    rests 


274  CHRISTMAS    REJOICING. 

greatly  from  the  office  work,  and  his  clients 
say  that  the  junior  partner  is  a  wonderfully 
capable  man.  With  such  clients  as  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton of  Thornhill,  and  Mr.  Hinman  to  place 
the  great  interests  they  represent  in  the  keep- 
ing of  the  firm,  « Roberts  and  Brereton " 
grow  daily  more  important  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world. 

The  cottage  of  1861  has  grown  into  a  much 
larger  and  finer  house,  but  no  other  home 
could  ever  be  as  dear  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brereton 
as  that  place  of  many  memories,  and  Jack's 
boy  Christopher,  walked  down  there  with  me 
this  very  day,  to  show  me  the  place  where  his 
father  took  the  oath  for  his  three  months'  ser- 
vice, "  while  grandfather  went  to  the  war." 


0 


